


Welcome, Little One

by PenMasterShepard



Series: Welcome to Life [3]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2018-06-01 18:05:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 78,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6530416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenMasterShepard/pseuds/PenMasterShepard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world without Reapers, but where Jane Shepard has been promoted to Commander and given N7 designation, our protagonists rebuild very different, but oh so familiar, lives. Part 3 of Welcome to Life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

“Shepard, I feel ridiculous.” Liara tugged at the hem of the entirely too-short skirt, white and pleated; so much blue leg showing. “I feel less on display when I’m undressed,” she mumbled, frowning. Jane smirked, leaning against the brick and smoking. “When are you going to stop that again?” She tugged at the skirt again; wasn’t really about the cigarettes, Shepard knew. She crunched the butt under her heel and shot off the wall,

“I love it when you wear white,” she took her in her arms and kissed her, not caring that she probably tasted like smoke and ashes. Had just reminded her so very much of their wedding, six months ago, about a year after they had taken that step from dating to betrothed; perfect timing, with spring blooms around them, perfuming the air with their fragrance.

 

_Shepard, at the end of that mile-long aisle – or so it had seemed at the time – Alliance dress uniform and military decorations pressed, but nerves frayed. Ashley and Aria and Jack all standing next to her, in their finest; none of them looking as nervous as she felt. Shepard letting the music calm her, patting down her pockets for the wedding bands before remembering Aria had them; looking out onto the veritable sea of pink and blue faces, all their friends and family and coworkers and society-climbers here to witness Lady Benezia T’Soni’s daughter marry some human who seemed to be all over the news. Aria saw her looking and slapped her on the back, whispering: “it gets easier, Shepard.”_

_And then the music swelled and Liselle came running up the aisle, throwing blue petals like grenades, sporadically and with the energy of a krogan, all mini-Aria with her sinewy power packed into a six-year-old frame. Her tiny poofy dress adorable, her tiny replica of her father’s coat out of place but perfect, Jane thought. Miranda was on her heels, trying to walk to the pace set by the march while simultaneously reigning Liselle in; all of it done in heels and a tight dress. Jane saw Jack grin, watching her wife play baby-sitter. Thea came behind her, beaming, followed by Benezia, who brought up the rear but drew everyone’s attention with her fairy-queen like air._

_Then there was Liara, and Shepard’s stomach roiled. She stepped around the corner on her father’s arm – had wanted today to be equal human wedding-asari bonding ceremony – and smiled at her there waiting; the blue of her eyes drawing Shepard’s gaze even from where she stood. Jane let out a long breath, and Aria elbowed her in the ribs, “She’s beautiful, Shepard.”_

_“Yah…” in a daze. A dream state. And she was right: she had never seen a lovelier creature in all her years, anywhere. It made her heart double tap in her chest, her knees weak – warm, cotton candy-fluff in her stomach, in her head. Liara was perfect. Breath-stealing beauty, and shy innocence; Shepard felt her face open, all soft lines where worry and nerves had been – then pinch into a mess of barely held-back tears._

This can’t be real. I must be dreaming. There is no way a gorgeous goddess like that would marry a beat-up, navy idiot like me… _Her dress: long in the back, modestly cut, lace and sparkling trim. Shepard fell in love all over again as she watched her walk up the aisle – a moment and a lifetime at once; wanted to stop time and watcher her there, for eternity. ‘_ Forever, _’ she heard in her head._ ‘A thousand years; until the day you die.’ _Aria had handed her the wedding rings and sat; the whole party taking their seats leaving Shepard alone with the Matriarch who was to wed – bond – them. Liara was there, kissing her father on the cheek and gracefully lifting her dress so she could ascend the lip of the stage. Shepard reached out and took her hand, leading her up the stairs and whispering close to her ear, “you look beautiful.” A bashful smile from her bride._

_…_

_“Liara, I came back from the dead for you; and if you will let me I will make sure nothing ever tears us apart again. I won’t always be home, I won’t always be by your side, but I will always protect you. I will always be brave for you.” Jane gulped, running her thumbs over the hands in her own. Liara looked up at her from under her lashes, and Jane nearly floated away she was so beautiful in that moment._

_“Shepard-uh, Jane,” she blushed and the crowed tittered. Shepard smiled; heard Liselle asked her father_

_“Who’s Jane?”_

_“Auntie Shepard,”_

_“Oooohh.”_

_“Jane,” Liara began again, holding her hands tighter. She seemed lost for a moment, unsure what to say. “… I am yours.” Aethyta huffed from the front row:_

_“That appeals right to those human misogynist tendencies, don’t it?” Benezia hushed her; Shepard stole a glance at them – at all of them – and saw not a dry eye. Except for Aria, who looked like she was trying to solve a very complicated equation._

_The Matriarch smiled and asked for the rings and bracelets, which Jane and Liara handed over - after a moment of fumbling from Shepard._

_…_

_“Jane Diane Shepard, do you take Liara T’Soni to be your lawful wife and bondmate, to cherish and protect, to inspire and enrich, to love and hold, until the Universe deems you part?”_

_“I do.” Gulped, felt the back of her arms tingle. Liara clasped a dark metal bracelet around Jane’s wrist, and slid the shining plain band on her finger._

_“Liara T’Soni, daughter of Matriarch Benezia T’Soni, and Matriarch Aethyta T’-“_

_“Hey, hey-no need for that-“ Liara’s father interrupted from her chair._

_“Do you take Jane Shepard to be your bondmate and wife; to encircle her with love, to share the vastness of your life with her, to give her to the Universe when the time comes to part?”_

_“I do,” Liara had begun to cry. Shepard noticed she had as well. The Matriarch nudged Jane who had been so enraptured with Liara that she forgot to clasp the bracelet – the same one she had given to Liara upon their engagement – around her wrist. She blushed as red as her hair and finished, sliding Liara’s ring on as well. The same glittering band she had bought on Illium so many years ago. Liara had refused a new one;_ ‘It has been through so much with us; and it matches my engagement ring…’.

_“Then, with the blessing of the Goddess, and the,” she looked down at the paper work, “the, uh, sanction of the extranet and the human embassy on the Citadel,” the crowd laughed and Jane blushed again, “I declare – and pronounce – you bonded and truly wed. You may kiss your bride and bondmate.” And they had._

_…_

_Shepard paced nervously, taking a short flask from Aria when offered. Dinner was done and Liara was in the bathroom with Thea and Miranda; they were waiting for the first dance. The alcohol had relaxed her a little, but the impending gawking and spotlight attention was grating on her. Aethyta and Benezia had given a lovely speech at dinner, and something rang out in her head:_

“…you cannot get back everything you lose, but sometimes you get lucky-“

“Well, that’s the plan anyway, right kids?” Aethyta had winked, making Liara groan into her wine glass. Jane gulped and laughed too loud and too long.

“My two beautiful daughters,” Benezia had continued, ignoring her bondmate’s crudeness with a deft and practiced air, “live long and live well; and never forget that the Universe and the Goddess parted you just to bring you together again.”

_“Shep?”_

_“Huh?”_

_“Where’d you go just now? Liara’s ready,” Shepard looked up at Jack, who took the flask and shepherded her to the entrance, “go.” Liara stepped out of the restroom and smiled, taking Shepard’s hand; she felt a rush of confidence;_ with her by my side I can do anything, _she thought, and led her onto the dance floor as the music started: one hand around her lithe waist, one clasped in blue fingers, she leaned in and kissed her, Liara’s hand faltering from its place on her shoulder for a moment; wanting to reach down and tug her closer. There were hummingbirds in her stomach, beating against her ribcage, her heart – how she made her feel every day: enamored by her, enraptured with her._

_“I love you.”_

_“I love you, too.”_

_They spun around the floor; Liara opening a shallow meld and their shared nervous system and consciousness allowed Jane to appear to lead; not a step missed, no shuffling bumbling human awkwardness slipping through now._

‘Heart beats fast

Colors and promises:

How to be brave

How can I love when I'm afraid to fall?

But watching you stand alone,

All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow’

 

‘One step closer.’

 

‘I have died every daywaiting for you, 

Darling, don't be afraidI have loved you for athousand years, 

I'll love you for athousand more.’

 

‘Time stands still,

beauty in all she is

I will be brave.

I will not let anything take away what's standing in front of me.

Every breath,

Every hour has come to this.’

 

‘One step closer.’

 

‘I have died every day waiting for you.

Darling don't be afraid I have loved you for a thousand years,

I'll love you for a thousand more.’

 

‘And all along I believed I would find you.

Time has brought your heart to me,

I have loved you for a thousand years,

I'll love you for a thousand more.’

 

‘One step closer,

One step closer.’

 

‘I have died every day waiting for you

Darling don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years

I'll love you for a thousand more.’

 

‘And all along I believed I would find you.

Time has brought your heart to me,

I have loved you for a thousand years

I'll love you for a thousand more.’

_Jane whispered in her ear: “Forever. Until the day you die.”_

_…_

“Come on, Li, you look – wow – you look amazing. It’s a costume party, you’re supposed to feel ridiculous; at least a little.” She winked,

“I do not see how this is a costume.”

“It is, trust me. For tonight I am the doctor,” she stuck the earpieces of her stethoscope in and brought the meal listening piece between Liara’s cleavage, making her jump; making her nipples harden through the thin material. Shepard laughed, “and later, Nurse T’Soni, we can play doctor for real. Finally.” She ran her hand over those nipples, grinning; heard Liara’s heart speed up.

“Different kind of doctor, Jane… and stop it; I am just cold,” she crossed her arms over her chest and pouted.

“Where’s the hat?” Shepard removed the stethoscope and frowned; Liara turned and stalked back into the condo lobby, still pulling at her outfit and grumbling:

“Goddess, Shepard-should have never agreed-insufferable-I _cannot believe_ I agreed to-“ Jane watched her wife walk away with much appreciation, calling after her:

“Wait until Aria and Thea see you!”

 

“Who are you?” Shepard grabbed two drinks from the bar and passed one to Aria, who looked on, nonplussed. Jane had been wracking her brain trying to decide if the switch from white leather jacket to black leather coat was her costume. Didn’t want to look like an idiot.

“The owner of Afterlife.” Shepard scoffed,

“Really, Aria? You didn’t dress up?” Liara returned with a small plate of food and Shepard stole a spring roll off of it, narrowly dodging Liara’s smack.

“See; she didn’t have to wear something preposterous,” she pouted again, sipping her wine. Jane eyed the glass and her stomach turned over.

“Yes she did,” purple hands wrapped around Aria’s waist and Thea smiled, placing a small pointed black hat on her bondmate’s head. “She just refuses to keep it on.” Tevos was dressed in a modest blue-checkered dress and held a picnic basket; red shoes. It all clashed terribly with her skin tone. Shepard began to laugh, pointing from Aria to Thea,

“Oh my God, you’re Dorothy, which means… you’re-“ she dissolved into giggles as Aria glowered and Liara looked back and forth, brow pinched tight in confusion. “You’re the Wicked Witch of the West. Oh, that’s too good.” Thea sighed,

“It’s the largest hat I could convince her to wear,” she pinched Aria’s hip.

“Daddy, Daddy-Daddy!” A tiny purple winged-something dressed in blue came rocketing through their legs, and Aria scooped Liselle into her arms. Shepard laughed again,

“And this must be your flying monkey. Didn’t want to be Toto, Lissy?”

“No,” she defiantly said, “Toto is just a dumb dog. I’m a scary monkey!” She squirmed out of her father’s grip and disappeared again, shouting ‘Bray!’

“That kid has had a lot of sugar… this Halloween thing is baffling, Shepard,” Aria sipped her drink.

“Bray is Toto,” Thea explained,

“Thank you, _Auntie Shepard_ , for introducing us to this wonderful movie…” Aria said through clenched teeth. She tore the hat off again and shoved it into Tevos’ arms. Liara laughed behind her hand, but Jane looked about ten feet tall.

“When are you two going to join the kids club? Give these two a break and give Liselle a friend?” Jack patted Shepard on the back; she was dressed from head to toe in green tights and a feathered cap, “Jack and the Beanstalk,” she said, looking from asari to human, “no? Well fuck ya all. Miri said it was stupid too.” Liara darted her eyes to Shepard, who had gone quite red; both were quiet and sipping drinks to cover it. Aria narrowed her eyes; Shepard didn’t miss it.

“Well,” Liara began, clearing her throat, “when we’re ready.” She took another glass of wine from a passing waiter. Miranda glided up to them, and Shepard’s eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets: she was wearing an incredibly low-cut black and purple dress, her _genetically engineered and just-uh-perfect breasts -_ Shepard couldn’t help but think – on display. A white collar framed her strong features while a golden crown capped it off; red cape and sash completed the outfit. Jack beamed at her.

“I’m dressed as Aria’s conscience,” Miranda finally spoke, laughing as Jane joined in. The asari all shrugged. Miranda shot a look to Jane and Jack, “Oh well. Happy Halloween; drink some punch would you all?”

 

Shepard collapsed in bed, feeling tipsy from the booze and full of sugary treats. Liara had finally wiggled her way out of her nurses uniform and was changing into a long nightgown. Shepard felt the stir of something down below, but let out a beer-tinged burp and hiccupped; _oh, romance…_ she thought.

Liara climbed into bed next to her and turned on her light; it was well after 2 a.m., but she turned on her datapad and began to read. Shepard leaned on her elbow, watching her, grinning a drunken grin. She began to drift off, thinking to herself, her head full of cotton:

 _It’s not like we’re trying… we’re just not_ not _trying anymore; because trying would imply that we’re failing -_ and Shepard’s military peculiarities wouldn’t allow for that, God no. In fact, they had decided without deciding at all; had just started without a finite starting point; fell into creating a tiny asari without talking about it at all.

And she knew Liara was trying to build them a baby; trying to give them – give her - a daughter, but she didn’t say it aloud; neither of them do. She just knows the now-familiar sensation of being pulled – like being yanked by her bellybutton – has become as common during sex as wetness and gasps; with every crescendo there is that wrenching, heaving, pulling feeling and a flash of white. She wondered vaguely if Liara had given up; _she had been drinking tonight_ … There’s always that tug; but there’s never a baby.

Liara looked over and watched Jane as she fell asleep; her eyes had been on her datapad, but her brain – her heart – had been somewhere else. She wanted a baby; her body craved it. To be full and glowing and heavy with Shepard’s child; wanted someone who would be a tiny reminder of Jane, when she was out sailing the stars: someone with Shepard _in_ them. _A tiny anti-Alliance insurance policy_ ; they had joked as Shepard had healed, waited to be assigned and deployed – her leg not quite the same as it had been, her N7 status muddling the waters of where she would go next. _But there’s nothing,_ she thought; _no hunger or exhaustion like before Tela and after the infamous bathroom incident; nothing like what she knew now had been_ her - their first - _forming. No nausea or fluttering; nothing._ So she just kept digging deep into Shepard during their passion; like a diving bell, seeking the perfect mixture of her and her alone. And Shepard kept bringing home pregnancy tests, not saying a word, just leaving them on the counter for her, like it was fairies in the night; neither of them knowing what to say or how to say it. And Liara kept taking them, quietly, by herself with no fanfare. Wondering, not understanding why; _why is it so hard now?_ _When it had been so easy, so accidental…_ Jaded now a little, though. And there is no blue line; just a blaring red dot. But there’s never a baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Absolutely did NOT write the lyrics; the copyright for this great tune is as follows:  
> Songwriters  
> DAVID HODGES, CHRISTINA PERRI  
> Published by  
> Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.


	2. Chapter 2

“Should we get a dog?”

“A dog Shepard?” They lay on the couch in the afternoon sun and Shepard ran her hand along Liara’s stomach, imagining their little girl in there.

“I dunno, a varren? A cat?”

“No, Shepard,” Liara put her hand over Jane’s, “I think she’s going to be enough for us to handle.” Shepard grinned like an idiot, all sunbeams and Irish eyes.

 

_Christmas had come and gone, Benezia and Aethyta’s home free of the pitter-patter of little blue feet; except, as they had unwrapped their gifts Liara had leaned in close and whispered:_ _“I have another gift for you as well… one you can unwrap later.” Shepard’s heart thumped; that voice got her every time: like molten silk, raw honey. Much later, after dinner and drinks and the obligatory dirty jokes from Dad and the traditional Christmas Day Eve walk around the grounds, they had fallen into bed, exhausted; she had almost forgotten the promise. Liara had patted her on the shoulder and let her doze, digging through her bags and retreating into the bathroom. Shepard listened to the sounds of splashing water and a flushing toilet; the brushing of teeth and the opening and closing of drawers; imagining those long legs barely covered by a skimpy robe: “Shepard?” Jane opened her eyes to a box instead. Liara was wrapped in a fluffy robe over fuzzy pajamas._

_“Not quite what I had in mind,” she smiled, pulling her down onto the bed. Liara laughed and righted herself, sitting next to her._

_“Open it;” swatted her hand away from her breast: “not me, goof.” Shepard smirked and took it, pulling off the bow and wrapping, tossing them on the quilt. She blinked once, twice; looked up at her, eyes wide and brows drawn up in soft surprise._

_“No?”_

_“Yes;” Liara began to cry, and Shepard bounced on the bed, dropping the positive test and twisting her body to face her, “I’m pregnant.” Jane cupped her behind the ears and drew her in for a long embrace, her own tears falling now. She placed her hands over her stomach,_

_“You’re pregnant;” whispered, low and husky._

_“I’m pregnant. Merry Christmas, Shepard.”_

 

“Well, I guess we should head out if we’re going to be on time.” Shepard sprang up – was doing that a lot lately, Liara chuckled – fussing and grabbing coats and hats.

“Did you eat-“

“-Shepard, you saw me eat,” she replied, pulling on her coat, “you made me eat.”

“But did you finish it?” Liara smiled, too giddy to be annoyed; closed the gap between them and kissed her wife, rubbing a blue thumb over her the thick wedding band.

“Yes, love. I ate. And I ate yesterday,” she punctuated each stanza with a kiss, “and, in fact, I ate the day before that. Jane, I eat.” Shepard smiled, pulled her out the door,

“Come on, we’re going to be late for the ultrasound.”

 

 

“Thea, where’s my jacket?” Aria took the stairs in a slide, banging into the wall with her shoulder on the landing. “Fucking-“

“Aria-“ Tevos handed her her jacket and scolded her, kissing her quickly as she sprinted out the door; she came back a second later, pulling her into a real kiss, dipping her with one strong arm, gloved hand in the small of her back.

“I’ll be back tomorrow; late.” Thea nodded, absently, checking her pinging Omni-tool. She called to Aria, who was diving down the front steps,

“Aria! Wait.” Her shoulders froze, grabbing the railing and spinning, alarm bells ringing in her head - running on full-tilt. She didn’t speak, just took one look at Tevos’ holoscreen; knew her bondmate’s tone.

 

TO: COUNCILLOR T. TEVOS

FROM: [REDACTED]

SUBJECT: [BLANK]

 

There was an image embedded, no text. What had been Irissa Tevos lay on the floor of what Aria inferred was a space station. Her head lay several feet from her pale body, blood had pooled around her, deep purple in the artificial light. Scrawled on the wall, in Thea’s sister’s blood was one word: ‘Shepard.’ Aria set her jaw, nostrils flaring; her eyes narrowed and she turned them to Thea.

“You shouldn’t have opened this-“

“I-I receive filtered messages all the time-I…” Aria grabbed her around the shoulder, pulling her closer.

“Get Liselle and call Bray. Go to Omega.”

“Where-?”

“To find Shepard.”

 

Liara sat on the couch, staring blankly at the wall of windows, not seeing anything past the panes of glass. Shepard was speaking to her but she didn’t hear; couldn’t hear. Jane was there, then, rubbing her back; it felt nice, but cold. Everything felt cold. Their baby was cold; had died – _no, sorry, was not viable. Was not a baby yet,_ she thought, impassively; pulling at her scientific and rational side. _Was nothing but a cluster of cells-_ she began to cry, sobs dry and heaving in her chest; leaned into Shepard, who held her and murmured nothing into her ear, against her crest. _No-she was something; I do not care what they say. She was Shepard and I; she was tiny and unformed and did not have the chance to live, but she was someone._ She shook harder,

“What did I do, Jane?” She cried into her chest, not loud, nor in anguish; meek, timid, small.

“Oh, honey; nothing…” Shepard looked up at the ceiling, her own heart broken, both for herself and for Liara; for them. Didn’t know what else to say.

_They had sat with clasped hands; Liara undressed and redressed in a paper gown, probed and gelled. Shepard squeezed her fingers in her own, heart fluttering, eager to see their baby girl, or a swirling mass of something – reminded Jane so much of a galaxy map on a cruiser – maybe just an abstract art piece the doctor would have to dissect for her, piece by piece; but something. A heartbeat, steady and strong, like her own; like Liara’s, which she heard through her chest when they hugged, fought; made love. Instead her face fell; no pulsating mass, no tiny fleet heart, no cryptic somethings, exhilarating even with their confusing squiggles: nothing, just the empty blackness of Liara’s vacant womb._

_“I’m sorry,” the technician had spoken; underwater, a crescendo of white noise in Shepard’s ears. Liara had clutched her hand so hard it hurt; grounded her._

_Liara felt a deafening crashing soundless wave hit her; knocking the air from her lungs; disappointed rage, guilt, anxious-toxic-of course-why would it be any different-and-oh-Goddess-Shepard-I am so sorry Shepard-sadness, cresting like a wave; drowning her heart._

 

_They had stopped in a drive-thru on the way home, silent and starving, but neither having appetites, not really. Shepard looked over at her, in the passenger seat, curled into herself against the window, and had asked if she wanted a coffee with her meal. Liara had begun to cry then, silent tears rolling down blue cheeks. No need to limit her caffeine intake any longer; felt wrong, felt like grave robbing. Ambiguity clouding the banal now; the everyday life they led somehow perverse: insensitive._

God, I was so stupid, _Shepard thought, tears swimming in her eyes as they pulled up to the condo._ Naïve and stupid; foolish to think… _had slammed the car door, furious at the Universe suddenly. Had practically lifted Liara into their apartment._

 

A pounding on the door broke their silence. Shepard untangled herself from Liara’s arms and went to the vid screen; a bull-headed and bright-eyed Aria. “It’s Aria,” Liara nodded from the couch and wiped her tears. Wasn’t ready to share, not yet. Jane opened the door and Aria stormed past her, kneeling in front of Liara with a cat-like grace. Shepard started, a pouting, confused expression; “Aria?”

“Blue, did you get an email?” She touched her leg, almost tenderly. Liara frowned, looked a little taken aback by the care,

“Uh, no.” Aria stood and walked to Shepard, blowing out a breath.  
“Okay; okay. Pack your stuff,” she called over her shoulder, “and you-“ she shoved a finger into Shepard’s chest, “you’re coming with me.”

“Hold up, T’Loak. Explain.” Shepard crossed her arms and rested her weight on her left hip, eyebrows raised, “what the hell is going on?”

“Irissa’s dead; and whoever did it is looking for you.”

They sat around the kitchen island, hot tea warming terror-cooled bodies. “You’re going to Omega with Bray and Thea and Liselle;” she turned to Shepard, “and we’re going to do some investigating; with our guns.”

“Aria, I have work. Shepard has work; Thea has Council – she will be safest on the Citadel-“

“-do not tell me where my bondmate will be safest, T’Soni,” Aria snarled, drinking her tea and tapping her foot on the crossbar of the stool. “You’re going to call in sick, so are you- Thea can work from wherever she is – trust me. Omega.”

“Military doesn’t ‘call in sick,’ “ Shepard argued, standing and putting her mug in the sink, washing the dregs down with warm water. Aria scoffed, rolling her eyes over the lip of her mug, “what?”

“You’re on leave, Commander. And I would hardly call playing touchy-feely with a bunch of Maidens work…” Shepard had been assigned to inter-species Special Forces training with the Asari Commandos training unit; was teaching young women hand-to-hand and human war tactics – the first cross-species joint effort training squad. Rumor was the turians were starting to get their mandibles wet about it; rumor was they had approached the Alliance with a project of their own.

Shepard frowned at her.

“I have-“

“You have to come with me,” she spat, violet eyes dangerously dark; unspokens there: _if you want your wife to be safe; if you want your children to be safe._ Shepard set her jaw and nodded,

“Okay.”

 

Liara packed in silence while Shepard phoned her in; ‘personal emergency; will be returning soon-yes, thank you Sir’. Not entirely untrue; a murderer and a miscarriage were both more than qualifying… Liara slumped onto the edge of the bed, unsure what to pack; unsure how long she would be away. Cast an eye to the sanitary pads Jane kept under the sink. _Will I need them? Will it be… terrible? Painful?_

She wanted the visceral reminder of their lost child; the flushing of her system. Something to point at and blame: ‘this, this is why I am grey and lost in a fog.’ ‘This, here, is why my heart is breaking.’ _The waiting is worse,_ she thought, sitting still and straight on the bed, _knowing she is no longer… just there, in me. Waiting to leave us._

Already had.

Shepard came back into the room and sat next to her, flinging a long arm over her shoulder, pulling her into her chest.

“We’ll try again.” Three words; slamming home their failure. _Try, try try. Trying was leaving her rubbed raw._ “I feel the loss too…” She added, looking at the floor between her feet; “I loved her from the moment I knew she was there.” _And how long was that?_ Liara thought, bitterly; _when did she die? The day after I took the test? The minute I told you? Or was she already gone then?_

“She was never really there, Jane. We just thought she was…” Shepard rubbed her arm and held her close; knew they would get through it as long as they were together.


	3. Chapter 3

“Here, you can have this room,” Thea set Liara’s bag down on the bed, and ushered Bray and Liselle out. “Put her to bed for me?” She asked, standing outside the door. Bray nodded, held the girl tight; his pistol was strapped to his hip. “Thank you, Bray. For everything.” The batarian mumbled and shuffled down the hall, smiling. Liara had begun to strip, exhausted and mildly nauseous from the trip. Thea looked at her – looked into her, all pale faced and sallow skinned – and sat on the bed. “Liara, what’s wrong?”

“I am tired, that is all, Thea,” she pulled her pajamas on and mentally reminded herself to unpack those little white cotton coffins she had stored away in her luggage. Tevos rose, put her hand on her arm.

“Don’t lie to me, Liara.” She raised her hand as Liara opened her mouth to deny it. “I didn’t say you had to tell me, just don’t lie to me, okay? You’re not fine.” Liara nodded, almost told her; couldn’t bring herself to open that wound again, not yet.

“Okay; I am just so tired. Too tired to even worry about whatever my wife has stepped in this time.” Thea laughed, excusing herself,

“Yes, I know. Sleep well and we’ll talk tomorrow.” She shut the door and sighed; _what have you two gotten yourself into?_

 

Aria and Shepard sat at a dusky bar on the Citadel, paperwork and datapads on the low table in front of the couch; _no matter where we end up, she always finds a damn couch,_ Jane thought, adjusting her place on the end of it. She looked at her wrist and mentally did the math; _still time to call Liara._ She went to the bar as pretense and dialed, letting it ring while she ordered more Noverian Rum.

“Shepard,” Jane could hear a smile in that sleepy voice, and she smiled in return, looking like an idiot, grinning away to her wrist.

“Did you make it okay?” Liara rolled over in bed, the springs creaking in Shepard’s ears.

“Yes. We are all in bed. Where are you?”

“Citadel. Need to figure out how Irissa managed to escape C-Sec custody and then get herself beheaded…” The turian pouring her drinks shot her a disgusted look, his mandibles flaring out. She took the drinks and loitered by a post, not ready to rejoin Aria. Liara made a noise to match the look the bartender had given her. “Are you-will you be alright? I just want to be there, near you…”

“I will be fine, Shepard,” Liara yawned, glassy-eyed and uncomfortable. Felt the stirrings of indigestion. “I love you.” Shepard nodded to herself; reminded herself how strong her bondmate really was.

“I love you too. Sleep well.” They disconnected and Jane walked back to their couch; found Aria scowling at a datapad.

“I fucking wish Blue was here,” she groaned, scratching her forehead, “or that damn droid of hers at least.” Shepard handed her one of the glasses, sitting.

“Well, we do it the old-fashioned way: muscle our way in and ask questions.”

Aria grinned her shark grin, eyes dark and foreboding. “I call that the T’Loak way.”

 

They set out the next morning; had overnighted at seedy motel in one of the lower wards, in twin beds that smelt of urine and some musty alien scent that Jane was very glad she couldn’t identify. Shepard was wearing sunglasses and her N7 jacket, dodging the media who was all aflutter over her survival – _still_ – and the task force with the Asari Government. Didn’t need to be recognized. Aria had not so quietly pointed out that plastering ‘N7’ over her chest was probably a terrible way to go incognito, but Shepard had argued traveling with the Galaxy’s most notorious criminal was as well. Aria had shrugged and soldiered ahead, her hips swaying as she pushed her way through the crowd.

“We’re here to visit Irissa Tevos,” Shepard had slammed her Alliance ID on the counter, to the surprise of the fresh-faced woman at the desk. Aria stood behind her, tapping her heeled foot impatiently. The bright, steel and glass walls, the uniforms passing around her, the comm links and datapads beeping and murmuring all made her furious; deep, dark, dank: that’s how Aria liked it. This autocratic process made her blood boil.

“And you are?”

“-she is Commander Jane Shepard,” came a voice from behind them, and a beefy blonde man with a lilting voice pushed his way past Aria, shaking Jane’s hand. “Follow me, Commander.” Shepard nodded, darted her eyes to Aria and tilted her head for her to follow. “Captain Bailey,” he introduced himself as they walked down a glassed hallway, passing interrogation rooms. “And you’re here to for more than Irissa Tevos, aren’t yah?” He stood at an open door, one hand inviting them into the room. Aria passed over the threshold cautiously, watching Bailey like a hawk.

“No flies on this one, Shep,” she sat at the metal table, in a matching metal chair, and crossed her legs, sprawled and edgy. Shepard stood, leaning over the end, looming; her shadow long and lean.

“We would like to speak with Ms. Tevos; Aria here is her sister-in-“

“Bullshit,” Bailey laughed, sitting across from Aria and running his hand through his short hair. “You know as well as I do that Irissa Tevos isn’t here; isn’t even on the Citadel anymore. The Goddamned press may not know, but I’m sure the great Commander Shepard does – no offense, Shepard.” Shepard smirked; liked him.

“So, officially?”

“Officially?” Bailey laughed, long and raspy; he reminded Shepard of an old sailor. “Officially Irissa Tevos is rotting in a cell awaiting the capture and return of Tela Vasir so they can both go to trial. Now, I know, you know, and she sure as hell knows-“ he pointed to Aria, who was examining her nails, “that Tela Vasir ain’t never coming back.” Jane nodded, noncommittally, “But, the Council does everything by the book - they’ve had thousands of years to write it – sometimes things need to get done without a committee vote; so when a fresh-faced, strapping young man with Alliance ID and clearance came to pick her up to extradite her to Earth on some of those fraud charges, well, let’s just say I looked the other way.” Shepard slammed her fist into the table; _Alliance… this couldn’t be a sanctioned hit… not with her name all over it._

“Goddamnit.”

Aria began to laugh, low and raspy, like wind through the trees. “You stupid human; you got duped. Irissa Tevos is laying dead on some space station, and the Alliance definitely did not do that; would cause a war.” Bailey shrugged,

“Down here we have drugs, organized crime, and murder; I don’t have time to worry about the Council’s rulebook. She got what was coming to her, although I have to admit I’m a little concerned that, whoever this guy was, he passed our scanners and sensors and ‘duped’ my best Sergeant into thinking he _was_ Alliance.” Bailey stood, paced a few times in front of the two-way glass.

“So,” Aria drawled, “who was he? You C-Sec Boy Scouts must have vid footage of it all; have his name on file.”

“We do,” Bailey replied, scratching his stubble. “But it will take weeks to process the request to dig it out; even longer to get you two clearance to view it.” Shepard rubbed the back of her neck with her hand; “But I can tell you both have your panties in a knot about this for some reason I do not need to be privy too, incase I get called in front of some damned tribunal.” He opened his Omni-tool and sighed, “So, how about I just press this button right here, and we call it done?”

“That’d be great…” Shepard admitted; was suddenly very glad they had come in strong, but not guns blazing, as Aria had wanted.

“Done, you’re good to go.”

Bailey saw them out with a hard handshake and a thin-lipped smile. Shepard and Aria made their way back to their dark corner bar, waiting for the vid to come through; as they did they drank. As they drank they drew more and more attention to themselves, and before Jane realized there was a camera in her face.

“Khalisah Bint Sinan al-Jilani, Westerlund News: would you mind answering some questions for our viewers?” Shepard sighed and resisted the urge to shover her hand at the camera.

“What sort of questions?” She almost slurred; Aria laughed, staying out of frame.

“Well, aside from the fact that you seem to be drinking with a criminal,” the dark-skinned reporter shot a look to Aria. “The people back home have heard a lot of wild stories about you Commander; is it true you will not be attending the unveiling of the Akuze Memorial next month? Why would you disappoint the families of the Marines lost alongside you, Commander?” Shepard sighed, the loaded question not shocking her in the least.

“I am not going to respond to that last part, Ms. al-Jilani; but I will be attending the ceremony; I do not know where your sources are getting their information. We’re done here.” She stood, straight and tall, and the reporter backed up an inch. “I said we’re done.” The camera drone snapped off its light and Khalisah nodded, perturbed but seemingly glad that Shepard’s flexing arms hadn’t come into play; or Aria’s pistol, which was set on the table, locked and loaded. “Come on, Aria; let’s go.”

As they left, Aria had slapped her on the backside, making her jump;

“See, when you’re all take-charge like that I suddenly remember why I was so hot and bothered by you,” purring, wrapping a gloved hand around her waist.  
“Was? T’Loak, don’t fucking kid yourself: if we got divorced and you’d be all over this in a heartbeat.” Was so glad they could joke about it; was so glad they had been able to move on.

Shepard looked over at her, in her arms, and could still imagine what lay under that corset. Could still almost taste it, feel it; but found she did not want to. Still loved her, vibrantly, desperately sometimes, with her whole being, but now in a different way. In a matching coffee table set-dinner parties-boring ass-yuppie-in bed by 7-kinda way.

“Ah, Shepard. You think you know me so well.” Had winked.

 

Liara was pulled awake by a throbbing, expanding, terrible sensation in her abdomen; her eyes fluttered open as she clutched her stomach, folding in half on the bed. Then the blood came. Sticky between her legs; foreign and warm. She vaguely wondered if this was what Shepard felt every month without her Alliance-issued birth control chip. The pain came in waves, yet was constant; pressure and pounding below. She slipped out of bed, doubled over; just wanted it to be done and over with. _Vacate my body,_ she thought, tears rolling down her cheeks. _Let me grieve you._ When she sat on the toilet there wasn’t as much blood as she had been expecting: the slow trickle had felt like a geyser. She wanted it to get worse; wanted something all encompassing and gruesome and excruciating to justify how she felt inside. Another cramp rocked her body and she reached into the cabinet where she had stored the pads, trembling and knocking over bottles and toilet paper. She heard Thea stir in the adjacent room and bit her cheek to stop from crying out; it hurt.

“Liara? Honey, are you okay?”

“Thea…” She moaned, folding in half into herself with her pants around her ankles; it wasn’t agonizing, but it was full; a pain she couldn’t get away from. Tevos rushed in, flicking on the light and kneeling next to her,

“Liara, Goddess, what’s going on? Do I need to get Bray to get the skycar – the hospital-“

“No-no,” Liara moaned again, but quieter. “I lost the baby; she’s just…” Didn’t know how to finish. _Dying? No, she already had. Leaving?_ Felt something loosen in her heart.

“Oh, Liara. I am so sorry…”

They sat awake – Liara in fresh pajamas – in bed, drinking herbal tea. Liara talked, Thea listened; held her. Hugged her. Nodded and cried with her. Whatever pills Tevos had dug out of the cabinet had begun to dull the pain, and Liara’s colour was returning.

“I am sorry I woke you,” she yawned, putting her mug down. Thea shook her head.

“I am glad you did; I am glad you’re here Liara. Not alone.” Liara nodded and began to drift back into the sleep that had been stolen from her. “You’ll have a baby, Liara. I know you will. But for now, grieve this one. We’ll be here for you.”

“Please, do not tell anyone…” She mumbled, one eye half open. Thea shook her head. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Sleep.” She did.

 

Shepard was pulled awake by Aria’s snoring; she laughed to herself, as Aria very rarely snored. She threw the spare pillow on her own bed across the divide and it smacked the asari in the face, making her mumbled and roll over. She was sleeping nude, as usual, and Jane rolled her eyes. In the dark she fumbled with her Omni-tool; had fallen asleep before the C-Sec information had come in. There was an unread email and she opened it hastily, throwing her remaining pillow at Aria to wake her.

“Huh-wha? What the fuck, Shepard?” She groaned and sat up,

“Put on some clothes; C-Sec got back to us.” Aria stretched, drawing it out and not honouring Jane’s request.

 

TO: [REDACTED]

FROM: CITADEL SECURITY

SUBJECT: CLASSIFIED: Footage - 11-23-2189

 

Name: Tom Harris

Rank: Service Chief, N6

Affiliation: Systems Alliance Navy Corps

Service no. 6783-AC-2483

 

Shepard narrowed her eyes; _Harris? No, you died on Akuze…_ She shook her head, looking over at Aria, who was reading over her shoulder. “That’s a false name; that’s-“

“I know.” Aria replied, quietly. Clapped her on the back. “I know. Open the file.”

She reeled; _someone had the balls to steal his name_. It wasn’t a coincidence, she knew.

There was a still of a vid attached and Jane opened it. It showed a large and muscular man leading a thin asari out of the same hallway they had passed through today. His face was turned up at the camera and Shepard felt a cold shiver run down her spine; felt her face flush hot a red.

“Oh my God.”

“What? Who is it? Shepard, you know this lummox?”

“That’s my brother.”

“You have a brother?” Aria smacked her upside the head.

“Ah, Aria. You think you know me so well.”


	4. Chapter 4

_Jane had been sitting at the piano, playing when Liara asked: “Where did you learn to play?” She had stopped, looked up at her and shrugged; had continued playing, softly. Liara sat next to her and watched her fingers dance over the keys; long fingers, large hands: born to play piano. Shepard began to speak:_

_“I wasn’t born a Shepard, Liara. Whoever my birth parents were, they gave me up; left me at just a few weeks old, I guess. After that I went from foster home to foster home, tried to keep up in school…” She shrugged, ‘_ I made it’ _it said;_ ‘Could have been worse’.

_Liara had seen glimpses of her past in the meld: a mother, a father – blurry, all black hair and wispy features to Jane now – a brother. Her time with Aria, N training, Akuze… She stopped playing and turned to her, “There was one family; my family, the Shepard’s. Even had an older brother – John. Mom, Dad, the whole bit. They took me in, made me one of them; adopted me. I took their name. Jane Doe became Jane Shepard. I was just a little kid, four, or five? Mom even gave me her mother’s name as my middle name…” She sighed: long in through her nose, long out. Past any pain from it now, “like I said: it’s just fuzzy Christmases and beach holidays. Except, well, Mom taught me how to play piano, my brother taught me some guitar chords. Then, they died… and I went back into the system.”_

_“Oh Jane…” Liara kissed her on the cheek, suddenly so aware of the strength in her: where it had come from. Suddenly aware of why a family had excited her so, both the unexpected surprise at school, and the lost girl before Akuze._

_“Well, Mom and Dad did…” Jane began to play again, fumbling through Liara’s Song; the jumbled notes the only outward indication that she was affected, inside. “It was just a freak accident, a car crash; wrong place, wrong time.” Shrugged again, her shoulders barely registering it as they moved with her arms, her hands; her music._

_“Your brother…?”_

_“John? He didn’t deal well with it; didn’t deal well with a kid sister to look after, and he took off, joined the Alliance. I followed in his footsteps, I guess – but I lost track of him. I think I lost track of him on purpose once I joined the gang… I knew how he’d feel; how Mom and Dad would have felt… he just disappeared into the rank and file of the military. He was just a kid; I mean he shouldn’t have been expected to take care of_ me _. He really went off the radar, though, because I got a settlement from the truck company that had hit my parents; funded my University career, got me our first place, let me focus for once. If he were alive- well, he would have gotten some of that money too. So, that’s where I learned to play…”_

_Later, in bed, where all their conversations seemed to end, she had rolled over and kissed Liara’s shoulder, bare and sweaty and still trembling. “I wish I knew where he was, Liara. I really do.”_

_Liara had lain awake for a long time, thinking Jane – of all the things she knew about her and all the things she was still discovering. About her lost family: not one, but two; the original lost boy. She wondered if they had molded her, shaped her into the woman Liara knew so well: did her father always leave the shower curtain open after he used it, like she did? Did her mother wait until they were in the garage, parked and ready to leave the skycar before turning down the heat, so it didn’t blast her when she got back in? Did her brother tolerate the constant tagging-along a tiny Jane must have burdened him with; because Liara knew, based on the woman she loved today, Shepard must have idolized him; was one hell of a tomboy._

_Liara thought of trying to track him down a hundred times; never did. Sometimes people got lost on purpose. Sometimes they didn’t want to be found._

By noon the next day the slow trickle of blood had become a torrent of heavy bleeding; cramping and sickly pale, Liara had stayed in bed until after 11, until Liselle, not understanding, had stormed the breach and dragged her out to breakfast.

Thea had smiled at her, bright and beaming, the emotional support coming off of her in waves from across the sparse kitchen. She had placed toast and tea in front of her and rubbed her shoulder as she passed; two tiny blue pills set under her napkin to take away the physical pain. Liara had sipped her tea and smiled back: lightness in her now that she had shared her frightful news. Tevos brought her own plate and sat, knees touching, and they ate in contented silence for a while, Liara occasionally letting out a long, calming breath to deal with the pain. Thea had finished her own toast and looked over at her - Liselle was not-so-quietly playing with an elcor plush and a toy turian cruiser in the corner, crafting some fantasy battle of the most unlikely kind – “How are you?”

“Fine. Hurting a little, but fine,” Liara smiled, crunching crust and nodding. “We were so excited, Thea, and it took us so long to… well, I am sorry I did not share the news with you right away; I was nervous.” Paused for a moment, “for a good reason, apparently.” Thea patted her hand and took her dishes,

“Don’t apologize, Liara. I understand.”

 _You do not, not really,_ Liara thought; not coldly: rationally.

“I am sorry about your sister, Thea,” Thea’s shoulders sagged, and she came back to her chair, shrugging.

“I am not. She tried to have your wife killed; she tried to have you killed. She-“ _killed your first child,_ she thought; almost said it aloud. “She was a terrible person. I just wish I knew what was going on.” Liara nodded, her tea gone lukewarm. “Did Aria show you the photo?” Liara shook her head, and Thea pursed her lips. “Well, I am not going to show it to you; but, Liara, they wrote Shepard’s name on the wall. They’re calling us out.”

“They?” Liara was surprised at her calmness; Shepard in mortal danger seemed almost normal now; expected. Her job.

“He? She? Cerberus? I don’t know.” She bit her lip, raising her brows at Liara; “so, do we dig, or do we leave this to them?” Liara sighed,

“I have no wish to be shot again, Thea; maybe we leave this to them.” She groaned and tried to stretch out the tension in her back; rose and dumped her tea down the sink. “For now.”

 

“A brother?” Aria was stuck in a loop. They were rocking back and forth in the back of some transport, the strange red glow of Omega just visible through the cockpit window.

“Yes, Aria. For the millionth time: my brother, John. Army guy; big guy, blue eyes, sandy hair; loved the hell out of him when I was a kid… haven’t seen him since.” Aria tapped her foot,

“How-I mean, we shared a lot, Shepard;” she seemed agitated, pissed off that a secret of Shepard had come to light without her being the first to know. Jane shrugged. As they landed, passing through the artificial atmosphere of Omega with a clatter, Shepard sighed; wasn’t sure what kind of condition she was going to find Liara in. Wasn’t sure they would get a private moment, with Bray and Liselle and Aria and Thea in that tiny apartment she knew so well.

Liara greeted them at the door, throwing herself into Jane’s arms with a barely hidden sob. Aria narrowed her eyes and stepped nimbly past them,

“We were only gone for three days, Blue…” patted Liselle on the head and kissed her own wife. “Everyone sit down –“ picked Liselle up and placed her on the floor “not you. Go; here,” handed her a credit chit from her pocket – _how she has room for pockets in those pants, I’ll never know,_ Shepard thought – “let Bray take you for ice cream or some shit.” Liselle grinned, hugging her father around the waist and mumbling, ‘thanks Dad.’ Aria grabbed Bray by the collar as he passed, “Do not let her out of your sight, got it?” He nodded, soberly, “and don’t let her eat anything from Harrot’s.” Liara and Shepard joined them at the table; had been talking quietly by the door. “What the fuck is up with them?” Thea kicked her, pointedly glared; _I’ll tell you later,_ it said, and Aria screwed up her face in annoyance. “Whatever; okay, well, Shepard has some big news…” Jane rubbed her left collarbone with her right hand, nervously; nodded and perched close to Liara.

“Long story short: C-Sec allowed someone claiming to be Alliance to take Irissa into their custody.” Aria snorted, mouthing ‘somebody,’ and rolling her eyes. “Said person abducted her, murdered her, and left my name as some kind of sign?” She shrugged,

“Shep, this isn’t the bloody Alliance; stop with the debrief.” Aria turned to their wives, “Shepard’s brother killed your sister; all very incestuous, is it not?” Thea started, mouth opening into an ‘O’; Liara just nodded, calmly.

“What does he want with you?” She asked, her eyes on her bondmate. “With us?”

“I don’t know, honey.”

 

They had packed and prepped for the following morning’s departure before dinner, then ordered takeout and watched a Blasto vid with Liselle. Watching the tiny purple girl curled into Shepard’s chest, thumb still stubbornly in her mouth, Liara’s heart ached; and by the time they all retired to their bedrooms Liara was more than ready for sleep. More than ready to talk to Jane alone.

“Would you like to talk about it, Jane?” She looked over at her, laying next to her in this strange bed, on this strange rock, and wondered how they got themselves into these things.

“No. I’d like to talk about how you’re doing though; much more important right now,” Shepard smiled, almost sadly, and rubbed the soft swell of her lower stomach; the Alliance had robbed her of many of the curves Liara had, and she loved touching them, feeling them; licking them and nibbling on them. Liara smiled, nodding.

“I am fine. I believe the worst has passed,” she stroked Shepard’s hair, pushing messy locks of it out of her eyes. _It’s getting long,_ she thought, not entirely unpleasantly. “Physically, of course.” Jane nodded, pressing her hand more firmly into her soft skin.

“I’m sorry I had to leave you, when-all of this…” Liara kissed her, shaking her head.

“Do not be silly, Shepard.”

“We’ll try again, Li. When you’re ready.” Liara puckered her lips and ran her hand along her forehead; all tells of the emotional storm going on inside.

“Yes. We will.” She adjusted her position, laying down and tucking her face into Shepard’s back, “your brother, Jane…”  
“Not exactly the family reunion I was hoping for,” she sighed, reaching over with long arms to turn off the light. “Aria and I will gather our resources, do some reconnaissance; I do not want you or Thea involved, okay?” Felt as Liara nodded against her shoulder blades, “I’m serious, Li.” A kiss there, on her spine. “I’ll take care of John.”

 

John Shepard had not wanted to be found; but he had kept tabs on his baby sister. Sitting on a hard metal chair he stared out the window, visor magnifying the view; looking in on Jane and her asari. He opened the file on his datapad, read:

 

_Primary:_

_Lt.-Cmdr. Jane Shepard_

_Married; No children_

_Systems Alliance, Marine Corps. Special Forces; N7 designation_

_No family_

_Special Tactics and Recon candidate_

_Normandy project candidate_

_Dr. Liara T’Soni_

_Married; No children._

_The University of Serrice_

_Bondmate/wife_

_Benezia T’Soni and Aethyta –_ the last name was corrupted.

_Secondary:_

_Aleena ‘Aria’ T’Loak_

_Married; one child – Liselle Tevos_

_Criminal kingpin; Omega_

_Romantically tied_

_Dangerous; approach with caution_

_Councillor Dr. Thea Tevos_

_Married; one child – Liselle Tevos_

_Parents deceased; sister Irissa Tevos – deceased_

_Connections to Dr. T’Soni; bondmate of T’Loak_

_Powerful, politically; leave alone unless no other option presents._

 

Nodded to himself in the dark; the flashing lights of the Omega streets casting his features in a demon mask. He set his jaw – so strong and handsome – and his eyes became hard; focused: a piercing blue so unlike Jane’s dancing green. He opened his Omni-tool and dialed: “Sir. I’ve got them. They took the bait; next steps?”

 

 

Shepard placed the wreath at the base of the statue, stiff backed and razor-edged. Akuze smelt the same as it had that night; wet, lush, all new-green leaves and humid air; under it – and only in her reptile brain she was sure – she could smell blood. Hear screams. Her tongue was thick in her mouth, her throat dry, but outwardly she was the calm, collected Marine; sharp salutes and medals pinned, shining brightly in the sun. She stood proudly beside Anderson, slightly behind and to his right, listening to his speech about ‘courageous actions’ and ‘a hero of humanity’; no matter how many times she tried to explain that _he_ was the hero: she had simply survived. Kaidan Alenko, posthumous recipient of the salarian Silver Dagger and turian Nova Cluster; that was what a hero looked like. _I’m just a schlub in camo,_ she thought, scanning the crowd from her tall and still position. She saw Liara, beaming in the front row, her ivory dress cut short enough to show off leg, but long enough to be respectful. She saw Ashley, standing at attention at the sidelines, trying to hide the smirk Jane knew so well; saw Branson and a few of her other N-series DIs; saw _him_. He was staring up at her, standing about two rows back from Liara, and he cast a look to the back of her crest when Jane made eye contact. He was wearing Alliance blue camo, and she found her anger flared more at that than his venomous presence here. _How dare you?_ She thought, sure she was going red; _dishonor the 49 Alliance men and women lost here; the hundreds of civilians._

“…You have continued the proud tradition of being the driving force behind the finest Navy this galaxy has seen. Your continued leadership and example are both applauded and welcomed, and extremely important to the success of the Earth Systems Alliance Marine Corps…” Anderson droned on in his melodious voice. Shepard would have been flattered if she hadn’t been driven to distraction. John’s face had disappeared; slipped behind a member of the crowd, and it was only her rigorous training and discipline that kept her stock-still, only her eyes darting around, looking for those aged, but familiar, features. “…Your shipmates, N-brothers and sisters, and colleagues are indebted to you for your unselfish actions, unfailing loyalty, and perseverance. I -we- thank you, and bid you fair winds, and following seas and stars…” Anderson turned and pinned the Star of Terra on her uniform, and she saluted, tight; honored. John saluted her from the ground, a strange glint in his eye.

As the ceremony wound down Shepard barely contained herself; barely stopped herself from vaulting off the stage to give chase. She picked up speed as she came down the stairs, dodging well-wishers: He was just ahead now, arm disappearing between two women – widows Jane guessed from their black attire and red faces – she was reaching out to him, calling his name – Liara was behind her, shouting her name as she fled – he was there, her fingers almost on his sleeve as he resolutely kept his pace steady, ignoring her- and -“Commander, hello.” She was stopped dead by two large men in uniforms, all smiles and salutes. _Goddamnit,_ she thought, but returned the gesture. “Bennett and Fawkes,” the older gentleman said quickly, holding out his hand; she shook it quickly, peering over his shoulder like a gopher; trying to see her brother. “We’re very glad to see you alive and well-“

 

“Goddamnit,” Shepard slammed her hat onto the ground, mashing it into the dirt. Liara was on her arm in an instant; both behind a metal shipping container, away from the noise and somber celebration at the memorial; the champagne and finger foods forgotten, but John on their minds. “If those two hadn’t-“

“Jane, I think it was important to them to see you, feel your hands in theirs – they-“

“I know, I know…” She calmed down, pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “I’m sorry, Liara; it’s just, he was _right there_. I could have caught him… He was taunting me; he was threatening you.” Liara shrugged, pulled a tissue from her clutch purse and handed it to Shepard, who wiped her dripping brow. “And this Goddamned uniform is so hot on this fucking sweltering planet.”

“I think I need to limit your ‘Aria’ time, Shepard. You’re starting to sound like her.” Jane cracked a smile and sighed again, kissing her on the cheek; “I am so proud of you, Shepard. And you look very handsome.”

Jane smirked, still half-fuming; knowing Liara was distracting her. “I just wish I knew what he wanted. I have to find him, Liara. He knows where we are, what we’re doing…”

“Let him. Half the galaxy does.”

Shepard leaned against the metal and took out a hidden cigarette – lit it and blew the smoke out slowly. “I don’t deserve this, Li,” she finally said, fingering her medal. “I didn’t do anything except live.”

“Well, that is something… you did that.” She turned that around in her head as she smoked and watched Liara watching the sunset; found it was mostly true. She put a hand on her wife’s shoulder, knew she had stolen some of the pride and pomp of the day from her; when she needed it most.

“Thank you, Liara. For always – just being you…” the corner of her mouth pulled up in a cheeky smile and Jane’s heart melted. She wrapped her arm around her shoulder; _we will find out what he is up, Jane,_ her eyes said, _and you will fix it. You always do._ “Thanks.”

“Let’s go find Ashley, I am sure she is looking for you.” Shepard nodded and held out her arm; Liara looped hers through it. They rejoined the festivities, but not before sharing a slow kiss in the dying sun.

 

…

 

“I thought Alenko’s biotic display might have broken Jenkins’ back, but Jenkins pops up and yells ‘That was awesome!’” She laughed, slurring a little; gave the Serrice Ice Brandy in her glass a stern look and laughed again. “Oh, Commander, this has been nice.” Shepard matched her shot and nodded, smiling, casting a look over at Liara who was chatting Williams’ ear off she supposed.

“It has, Karin; it really has. I needed to see a familiar face today, thanks.” They sat for a moment, both straddling cargo boxes and staring up at the stars.

“Jenkins: soldiers like him make the Alliance great,” Dr. Chakwas sighed, lost for a moment in his memory.

Shepard raised her glass, realized she was slightly tipsy: “To Jenkins, Alenko, Toombs, Harris… to the men and women of the Alliance; all of them.”

“May they never be forgotten.”

Jane poured another measure for them both, spilling amber liquid down the side of her glass and licking it off with finesse. Liara spied her and gave her a thin-lipped and disapproving look.

“Have any family, Doc?”

“The this is my family, Shepard; the Alliance is my spouse, and you, you are all my children.” Shepard nodded methodically, took a long sip of her brandy and picked her teeth with her tongue. “Did I hit a nerve there, Commander?”

“We’re trying,” she replied, looking over at Liara again; laughing with Ashley, touching her arm. “And it’s not working… and – well, she’s had a few miscarriages.” Karin nodded, leaned over and patted her leg where it was crossed in front of her; she followed Shepard’s gaze to Liara.

“I am sorry, Commander. Your wife is lovely, by the way; we spoke earlier. It is always nice to talk to civilian doctors.”

“She’s ‘not that kind of doctor’ I keep hearing,” Shepard laughed, and Karin joined in.

“Well, yes; still. Very nice, I hope you have better fortune in the future, you will be wonderful parents.” Shepard blushed, shrugged.

“I hope so.”

 

They overnighted on Akuze, and despite the late hour and her drunken state Liara found Shepard curled up with her arms around her pillow, shaking, once night had truly fallen and the party had fallen quiet. “Shush, shush, Jane, come here,” she gently hushed her; gathered her soldier into her arms and rocked her tenderly. Jane trembled and looked at her with wide eyes, shaking her head like a child;

“I don’t want to be here, Liara. I can’t…” Liara kissed her forehead and noticed it was damp. “This is where… what if they come back? What if there was more…” Liara ran her hand along her biceps, fingers lightly soothing,

“They are gone, Jane. I am here. It is just us, here, now; I am here.” Shepard nodded, eyes too white, skin too pale. “I am here.”

“I think I died here, Liara… I think I died here and you are all a dream. Everything since the hospital has been a dream-“ Liara silenced her with a kiss, hard and full of life: _No, Jane; this is real. I am real. You are alive, and I love you so._ Shepard’s sob caught in her throat, and she melted into the familiar taste of Liara’s mouth. She had barely perceived Liara’s thoughts, the moment almost a meld; _let me show you._ And she’s on top of her, lifting her shirt above her head; she’s covering her with kisses and bites and that wicked blue tongue is dancing over her nipples and collar bones and between her thighs, where it’s all silk oil and desire; and she’s inside her, crying out for more; and there’s the tugging again, pulling, creating life in this place of death; creating new memories from old.

- _She will be made here, in love, and this place will never haunt you again…_

_Oh, Liara…_

_-I’m-oh,Goddess-love you-_

_-love_

_-you-her_

_-here_

_Liara!_

And Jane’s inside of her, and her sharp cries are enough to drown her nightmarish thoughts of screams and blood and dying; the fluttering, trembling, moaning, passion around her fingers is enough.

_…Shepard._

And she’s pregnant again.

And even though they don’t know it yet, that is enough to heal her heart as well.


	5. Chapter 5

There had been no sign of John for weeks. It was as if they had imagined it all. Liara was working in her office, singing quietly to herself; singing quietly to her stomach, imagining the tiny asari in there listening, smiling to herself and developing better musical skills than she herself had. “Take after your father, little one.” She smiled too; her Omni-tool rang and she answered without looking.

“Dr. T’Soni speaking,”

“Well, doctor; are you taking appointments?” Liara laughed, “hello Shepard.”

“Whatcha doing?” She blushed, purple; debated lying.

“Singing to our daughter; praying she does not learn that skill from me, but rather from you.” Jane laughed; even that was musical.

“I’m going in to see Anderson when I’m done at Aria’s – he landed about half an hour ago; I’m leaving dinner for you, okay?”

“Yes, okay. I will see you tonight-“

“-Oh, wait; there’s a package here for you, by the way. But it’s not a scary, bloody, eye-ball one this time,” she picked up the long box and shook it. “I think.” Made a face. Was actually kind of glad she hadn’t been around for that.

 

Shepard let herself in, and was surprised when Liselle didn’t come running. “Guys?” She called out. Heard an unholy clatter from upstairs and immediately stiffened, hastily taking the steps two at a time. A guttural scream, shrill and wonderful, broke the air as she crested the top stair; an animal moan that made her stomach clench and fill with golden light; carbonated bubbles. She went red and tried to turn away: _Thea,_ she thought, the heavy, jealous-gut wrenching-horror of Aria pleasing someone else landing in her stomach like a hurricane coming ashore; _that’s Thea…_ _God… that’s- hot._ She blushed redder and tripped over her own feet in her hastiness. The door banged open and Aria stood, naked and wet – in all sorts of places – her Carnifex raised.

“Fucking Shepard… I thought-“ Jane had a brief glimpse of long, naked, purple legs, running up and down tangled sheets; Tevos in all her afterglow glory. Aria grinned – more like a snarl – and went back into the bedroom. “Give me five minutes, Shepard. Or come join; whatever.” Aria looked over her shoulder and licked her lips – had had a harder time letting go of their sexual relationship than Jane had. Shepard slunk down the stairs, feeling idiotic and flushed.

Aria and Tevos joined her shortly after – shortly after Jane had fled the house and smoked outside to escape the familiar sounds of Aria’s impending pleasure – thankfully clothed and wearing matching stupid, sex-soft grins. Jane couldn’t meet Thea’s eyes; not yet. “You could knock next time, Shepard,” she chastised, winking.

“I-uh-God-I’m sorry-I-“ Thea laughed and touched her on the arm; she flinched away. “Uh, any news, from Bray? I mean- my brother?” Aria sat and crossed her legs,

“Nope. Can’t find any trace of John Shepard, but, it is Omega; not exactly a hotbed of Alliance activity, Shep. There are rumors…” Shepard raised her brows, looking from Aria to her bondmate,

“Such as?”

“Cerberus is stirring: selling stock, onboarding publically; cleaning up their act, as far as the idiots who buy into that shit are concerned, and they found Irissa.”

“What? Why is that not all over the news?” Shepard’s mouth hung open. “What the fuck…” Aria raised one brow as an answer: _you really need me to answer that, Shepard?_ She shook her head and hands, “Come on…”

“Yep; different location, no moniker on the wall in fresh asari blood. Just a headless corpse dumped somewhere on the Citadel. He’s fucking with us; keeping us interested without showing any of his cards. I kinda like him, to tell you the truth; I mean he’s more badass than you.” Shepard rolled her eyes and Thea pinched her nose, shaking her head.

“Aria-“

“Okay, I don’t really; you’re hotter.” She excused herself, wondering where the hell they were going to go from here.

 

“Shepard, come in, please.” Jane stepped through the door and saluted; stood with her hands behind her back.

“Sir.” Anderson stood and waved her down into the chair in front of his desk,

“Ah, Shepard, stop; sit.” She did, looking around the bright office, on loan from an Asari official. “Drink, Shepard?” She shook her head,

“No thank you, Sir.” Anderson slapped the desk, one shoulder leaning ahead,

“Alright, down to business; I like that, Shepard. Commander, I’ve got a proposal for you, and I suggest you do not turn it down.” Jane leaned forward as well, over one knee,

“Can I actually turn this one down? Sir.” She hastily added, trying not to smirk. Anderson ignored her, but laughed quietly as he stood and looked out over Serrice.

“The Turian Hierarchy approached us in ’83, Shepard; they’ve been a monumental help in developing our fleet – as you know –“ he turned to look at her over his shoulder. She nodded, “we’ve co-developed a deep scout frigate; a stealth ship of sorts. We want you to command her. She’s quick, she’s quiet; we know you’ll treat her well, Commander.” Shepard’s arm slipped off her leg, and she stuttered a few times,

“Uh, Sir. I-I don’t know what to say;” there seemed to be a ringing in her ears.

“Say yes,” Anderson turned to her, “she’s a good ship, Shepard: optimized for solo reconnaissance missions, deep within unstable regions; exactly where we want you to be.” Jane ran her hands through her hair, breathing deeply; she stood and stuck out her hand,

“I’d be honoured, Sir.” Anderson laughed, pulled her in and clapped her on the back;

“Now, that drink, to celebrate,” Jane took the beer she was handed, giving it a skeptical look; _he’s a beer guy. Of course he is._ They clinked dark bottles, and swallowed yeasty asari beer; tasted the seawater they used to brew it. “Okay, we’ll have to relocate you right away; she’ll be in dry dock for a good while yet being retrofitted with a drive core-“ Jane almost choked on her beer, set the bottle down and waved her hands.

“No, no- I don’t think so. I’m staying on Thessia.”

“Shepard-“

“Sir, my wife is pregnant; we’re not at war, I don’t see why I have to relocate. Dry-dock her here; Armali has some of the best spaceports in the galaxy. Hell, even the one here in Serrice is good.” Anderson sighed and sat down again, his beer sat next to Shepard’s on the desk. “She’s the Council’s baby, Commander-“ Shepard reminded herself to grill Tevos when she got home; that brought up all sorts of uncomfortable and very fresh memories – “their money built her; I don’t think they’ll go for that.”

“That’s the deal, Captain. Either she docks here while she’s prepped or she docks at the Citadel with a different commander.” Anderson mulled it over, and mumbled something to himself as he turned around in the spinning chair, looking out the windows again; surveying the Asari Military’s port.

“I’ll have to check with the councillors; and Udina…” Jane picked up her beer again; knew she had him.

“What’s her name, Captain?”  
“Normandy.”

 

 

The first time she felt it she was teaching. A strange twinge, like one of Jane’s guitar strings plucked too hard, somewhere below, in her pelvic bone. The sensation was unfamiliar, but so many in these first ten weeks had been; it made her falter, pause and lose her sentence as she pointed at the screen. Liara cleared her throat and picked up where she left off, “…early Human settlements – like early Asari settlements – were often centered around water; port cities…” She finished her class, forgetting about the peculiar feeling; chalking it up to her body reshaping itself, making a home from internal organs and flesh and blood.

They were enraptured with the notion of a baby after Akuze. A family come to fruition; their baby, with Shepard's eyes - always with Shepard's eyes in Liara's head - and her pale skin.

She was standing by the glass walls of their condo – so much like their first apartment – thinking of small button noses and sleepy cries when another ping halted her thoughts; like someone was strumming the tiny bands that made up her nerves. She wished Shepard would hurry back from her meeting with Anderson; she was afraid now, uncomfortable.

The entirety of the pregnancy so far had been smooth sailing, all nursery dreams and delighted excitement. No sickness or lethargy or emotional rollercoasters; their miracle baby, calm and serene, floating in there, happy.

Liara had arrived home from work to a hot meal, left in the oven by her Shepard, and had eaten and ran a bath, poured a cup of juice - was waiting for her water to cool while she drank it - just watching the clouds pass by; now she was worried. Her whole evening flipped upside down. Her whole life.

The blood came in the bath: a tiny dribble of purple down her left leg as she stood; felt something disconnect, detach. Swooned from the combination of hot water and the sight of blood. Liara let out a whimper, soft and resigned, and dialed Shepard.

“Jane? Are you on your way home?” Didn’t want to worry her; didn’t want her to panic, like the panic rising in her chest. She sat on the toilet and shut her eyes tight; _if I do not look it is not happening. If I do not see the blood she is still there; floating. Happy._

And Shepard finds her in the bathroom, sobbing on the toilet; and she picks her up and rushes her out the door because there is so much blood this time, and she’s in so much pain this time. And she has her face pressed into Jane’s chest, drenching her with tears, and Jane lifts her into the back of the skycar, calling Tevos and Aria from the built-in comm, panicking now and trying not to show it. Broken hearted and so tired of crying tears for dead babies and crying tears for Liara, and crying tears for herself. Tired of not being able to do anything to change any of it. Can’t intimidate nature; can’t pull a rifle on natural selection. They headed to Lucen Memorial Serrice, where Jane rushed her through the door; but there is nothing to do. The baby is so small; like a grape, like a bean, and Shepard chokes on her grief; at the sight of her daughter, small and struggling to live. She has tiny feet and tiny hands and that strong, swift heart that they had craved.

But she dies anyway; just like the others.

And they’re raw; skinned, deep down, but they cling to each other in that small bed – a bed just like the other beds they’ve faced terrors in, but this is worse somehow. Because they can’t heal from this one. Not really.

 

Shepard unlocked the door and led her into the dark hallway. They were both quiet, somber. Grey. _Tired; I’m so tired_ , Shepard thought, closing her eyes and leading Liara into the bedroom. _I have to be brave for her; I promised I would always protect her._ Liara made a noise as they passed the empty room that was to be their nursery, and Shepard nearly sunk to her knees; wanted to take all of this from her, to take it all on her own shoulders; to relieve her of this burden.

“I am sorry, Jane… I am sorry I cannot give you-“ She clutched her close, the gaping hole between them becoming a crater they shared now.

“Liara; don’t. I love you. It is not your fault.”

“It _is_. I know it is-“ She was too tired to cry; sat on the bed and just felt empty. “It is because I am pure-“ Shepard shook her head; shook it away.

“No;” she rubbed the corner of her eye with a large finger, shattered. Didn’t know how to convince her; didn’t know how to really convey the love she felt for her. _Are we even in this together anymore?_ She thought, kneeling in front of her and taking her hands. “Li, honey, you will be a mother; we will have a child – we’ll have a whole bunch of them – I _know_ it.” She brought Liara’s hand to her heart, between her breasts, “I know it in here; the same feeling I got when I first looked at you, that certainty: it’s what I feel now.” Liara tried to smile, felt her heart begin to weave itself back together, at least in this moment. So much they had to talk about; _not now._ They gazed at each other for a moment and Liara believed her, and Shepard saw all their future children in her eyes; soft, large eyes that she had fallen in love with.

“Thank you, Shepard. For everything.”

“I’m going to make you tea. You, get into bed.” She did, and heard from the kitchen: “You didn’t open your package.” Shepard came through the door with it in one arm, a cup of tea in the other hand. “Here,” Liara sipped her tea and opened the box; a dozen Earth roses fell out, slightly worse for the wear. There was a note attached:

 

_Congratulations. You’ll be a great mother._

_\- John_

 

Shepard’s nostril’s flared as Liara dropped the card, hand over her face. “Enough of this,” she roared, so enraged she felt numb. She threw the flowers against the wall and punched the bureau, her knuckles coming away bloodied. As her anger faded into the background, waiting - crouched and waiting for when she needed it -something akin to fear took its place. She wrapped Liara into her arms, trying to calm her ragged breathing, her wife’s lungful’s of panicked air: “I’m going to find him. Enough.”

 

“Draw them out; make them sloppy,” John stood in the centre of a dark room, listening. He couldn’t see his benefactor, but his benefactor could see him; the dark orange crisscross of lines splitting his features. He nodded, hands clasped behind his back; some habits were hard to break: even after years of freelancing he still stood like a solider. “Vasir was too confident, and look what it got her. Irissa underestimated both them and us. So draw them out. Make them come to you.”

“Already done, sir.”

“Good,” John heard the inhale of smoke, and a soft chuckle. “Then take it from her, and kill her. Leave the rest of them to me.”


	6. Interlude

Liara had locked herself away, emotionally, for days; Shepard didn’t know how to reach her – to bring her back. She seemed distracted, like something other than grief had taken her; a fervor, a flurry of datapads and papers surrounding her when Jane passed by the office door.

Shepard was afraid to ask. Afraid it would bring up _the topic;_ and she didn’t want to talk about it. Not yet, not again.

 

She sat on the ground at the park, Aria lounging on the bench to her left, Liselle on the swings playing with a young turian boy from her class. Shepard was picking blades of grass and throwing them at her feet; felt like a young turian boy. Often did.

“You still trying to knock her up?” Aria asked, sipping a takeout coffee. Shepard sighed, knew Liara told Thea and Thea told Aria – but probably only half of it - and Aria knew her so well anyway; was surprised she hadn’t asked before. Or made a crude innuendo.

“Yeah.” Another blade of grass.

“You guys-“ Aria cleared her throat, clearly uncomfortable with the whole thing, “doing okay? The miscarriage…” Jane thought back to her flustered call to them, practically screaming into the phone; needing some support, any support.

“Miscarriages; multiple. Four, if you count the one Tela brought on.” Aria ‘hmmmed’ a wary answer; threw her cup into the garbage with a practiced hand. Spent a lot of time at this park. Shepard looked over at the laughing Liselle, who looked back and waved. Another fistful of grass.

“So you two are just defective, or?” Shepard rolled her eyes; _should have known._

“I dunno, T’Loak. Maybe; she thinks it’s her – I – well, maybe it’s me?” Shrugged and got to her feet, brushing dirt and small, lost green soldiers off her pants; sat next to her on the bench, cold and hard. They were quiet for a long time. “My brother sent her flowers.”

Aria looked over at her, just her eyes moving. Waited for her to continue. “The night at the hospital… I don’t even know how he knew she was pregnant; you guys knew, but that was it – we hadn’t even told her parents yet. After the first few we stopped getting their hopes up.” _I think I’ve stopped getting mine up,_ she mentally added.

“Well: how do you want to kill him?” Shepard grinned, something murky and sinister waking up inside of her for the first time since Vasir; _this is why I love you so, Aria._

“We have to find him first.”

 

Liara thrust a pile of papers into her hands as she walked through the door, and Shepard paused, look down at them. The top page was stamped with Alliance seals and words like ‘Classified’ and ‘Confidential’. “What’s this?” She leaned in and kissed her and Liara hummed a soft noise of enjoyment.

“All the information that exists on John J. Shepard.” Jane’s eyes widened and she hurried to the island, opening the folder and surveying; briefly looking up at Liara;

“Thank you… how?”

“I am a very good researcher, Shepard,” she waved and walked away, with a coy look over her shoulder. Shepard smiled; _of course, research. The only thing that could pull her out of that dark place…_ She turned back to the package and began to read:

LAST NAME – FIRST NAME – INITIAL: **SHEPARD JOHN J**

SERVICE NO.: **4573-AF-7652**

AREA: **AC**

RANK: **PVT**

STATUS: **MIA**

ORG.: **1 st FLEET; 10TH FRONTIER DIVISION**

DATE OF INDUCTION: **NA**

DATE OF BIRTH: **NA**

PLACE OF BIRTH: **ERTH.**

EYES: **BLUE**

HAIR: **BRN**

HEIGHT: **6 4 ½**

MARKS: **NONE**

 

BATTLES AND CAMPAIGNS

\- SKYLLIAN BLITZ

\- TORFAN

 

REMARKS

\- KIA A POSSIBILITY; **DEFECTED** MORE LIKELY

 **- DISHONOURABLE DISCHARGE** ; HEAVY LOSSES ON TORFAN – UNREASONABLE CONDUCT

**\- AKA ‘the BUTCHER OF TORFAN’ - 21**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like the image isn't working on mobile - but maybe it's just my connect? Let me know; I will duplicate post it anyway.


	7. Chapter 7

Benezia sat up in bed; small opera-like glasses perched on her nose, said nose in a book. The soft light from her lamp made her skin shine, a soft baby blue, and Aethyta stopped in the doorway and smiled. Her bondmate looked up and removed the pince-nez from her face, shut her book; one finger stuck in the page to keep her place. “Hello dear,”

“Hey.” Aethtya leaned on the frame and held up the comm device – what Shepard had always called ‘the phone’ – “That was Liara.” Benezia raised the markings that acted like eyebrows – the ones her daughter had inherited – ‘ _and’_ the expression said. “Not good, Nezzie.” Benezia nodded and found her bookmark; loved the smell of a real paper book in her hands – patted the bed for her bondmate. Aethyta joined her, sighing. “She lost another baby; ten weeks this time. Those two have real shit luck.” Benezia closed her eyes and felt a desperate urge to go to her daughter, hold her, make her breakfast and tuck her into bed and tell her it was going to be fine. “She’s a mess. Keeps saying shit about being a pureblood…”

“They will find their way,” she let Aethyta lay her head on her breasts, close and familiar. They were quiet for a long time, breathing in tandem. “She’s blaming… us?” _Her pedigree?_ Purple lips pursed, eyes closed.

“I dunno. I think so. Hell, if I lost a bunch of kids I’d start to blame shit too; anything.”

Benezia nodded, looked at the photo of Liara hanging on their wall; their only child together – her only child, period. Had given birth to her so late in life: her unexpected miracle. Her Little Wing. Wondered now if she was to blame; if she had maybe lost babies before Liara, ones she knew nothing about. Thought back to a small girl on her lap, flowers in small blue hands, eyes seemingly too big to be real staring up at her.

 _“There will be those who call you names, Little Wing; pureblood, like it is a bad thing. Like our people – the very heart of our culture and the fabric of who we are as Asari – is not built upon those like you. Do not let it hurt you, Liara. Wear it like a badge; wear it like Justicar armor, for they will never let you forget you are what you are; face them proudly with it._ You _never forgot who you are.”_

 

Liara lay in bed and remembered her mother’s words: “ _You_ never forget who you are.” _How could I, Mother? How could I forget when there are four children who never got to live to remind me? When my womb lies empty; inhospitable._ She rolled over and grabbed Shepard’s pillow, wrapping her arms around her wife’s scent. Supposed she was somewhere among the stars by now, between the Citadel and here; wondered if she was thinking of her.

 

Shepard lay in her bunk, arms behind her head, staring at the stars as they passed by. The whir of the engines was keeping her awake; _some stealth ship,_ she bemoaned, rolling her eyes; knew the drive-core hadn’t been updated to the turian model yet. Was looking forward to that if she was to be spending night after night in this cabin. She imagined the stars up there – the vast blackness of space – was Liara’s body, and each pinprick of light was one of their potential daughters. _One of you, come home to us,_ she thought.

_“I’ll be home in a few days, you rest. Don’t go into work yet, you really need to recover.” Jane had stroked Liara’s cheek and kissed her, duffle bag over her shoulder, Alliance fatigues on. Anderson had insisted she at least add her stripes and N7 to them, something to distinguish her from ‘the grunts.’ Liara smiled, was slowly thawing from her frozen state; coming back to life. She beamed at Shepard, and Jane stood taller for it, grinning for what felt like the first time in weeks. She had convinced the Council to let her have the Normandy in Serrice – for now – after a terse conversation. Sparatus and Valern knew Shepard and Tevos were close, but Thea never once let on in any of their meetings; was all best-practice-calculated decisions, over-annunciated vowels and professionalism; as if Jane and herself hadn’t shared the same woman. As if Jane hadn’t seen her in the throes of passion. But, she had stated her case, and suspected, deep down – very deep down – that Thea’s voice of reason and knowledge of their reproductive misadventures had swayed them._

_“Stand by shore party; decontamination in progress.” Shepard’s inside swirled and her heart beat hard and heavy against her ribs._ My ship, _she thought, hiding a smile with a set jaw,_ I have my own ship… _The chamber doors slid open and the VI announced her presence over the system. She had arrived._

_Unfortunately, my crew has not,_ she thought. A skeleton crew was flying her now; awaiting her final selection. _One perk of being the boss; I get to pick who I bring with me into mortal peril._ They had left the Citadel that evening, and it had been a bustle of activity since; keeping her mind off everything. Until now.

She rolled over and stared at the wall, facing away from the photo of Liara someone had so thoughtfully included in her cabin. There was an oversized aquarium, backlit and set into the wall, a glass case for her models – _Liara will be happy,_ had been harping on her to ‘baby proof’ the condo – and a small desk and console. Her armor would be picked up on Serrice and shoved into the small closet. She sighed again, licking her lips and resigning herself to a sleepless flight, rising and taking the elevator down to the mess hall. As she made a cup of tea she hummed; realized it was the first time in weeks she had. Being here, on her ship – on the Normandy – was almost a relief. She was away from Liara, but also from the incessant reminders and the drive to fix it; the obsession to make a baby. Because it had become an obsession; calculated research and second-guessing had turned into withdrawal and resentment on Jane’s part. Not all the time, just…

When Liara touched her, not because she desired her, but because she had to keep trying; to fill in the gaps, to solve the equation. _If x is Jane, and y equals Liara, solve for baby…_ When Liara locked herself in the bathroom and examined her body, so sure their flaw was there; when she locked the office and hid, behind piles of complicated crap – in Jane’s opinion – on Asari reproduction. Only locked it after Jane had taken them all and put them in the wastebasket, tired of it ruling their lives. _So tired._

Yet, it was ruling hers anyway; away from Liara. Separated. She still spent every moment not running a star cruiser wondering why. Wondering why they had drawn the short straw; how comical it was now that they had imagined they were pregnant, Jane an undergraduate, Liara a virgin. In the blackest way it was funny now, that. _Except, it’s not. It’s not at all._ Every moment wondering if it was really _her_. Not Liara’s body unable to carry their child; not genetics, or some universal naysayer saying _‘no, no’_ to making more little Liaras and little Shepards, but if it was Jane herself. Brought back from the dead. _Undead; a cybernetic and awful abomination, spitting in the face of natural life; unable to be sequenced, or randomized, or drawn from, or whatever the hell she does._

Never told Liara her fears; couldn’t.

Never asked Miranda; didn’t really want to know.

Shepard had barely debarked when her Omni-tool rang. Fearing the worst she quickly picked it up, the air around her warm but her skin cool; scared. Aria’s voice perked her ears up,

“Your brother, he’s planetside.” She picked up her pace, running for the nearest skycar.

“What?”

“He was at Liselle’s school.”

 

 _Aria rolled her eyes above daughter’s head, listened to her babble on and on about art class and recess and what all of her friends had for lunch; “and then I drew this for you, Dad.” Aria took the drawing and smiled at it; the obligatory smile of a hundred million parents looking at a trillion badly drawn houses and space ships and families that looked like piles of goo. “Very nice, Lissy-“_ Fucking- now I’m calling her that, _she thought, unlocking the door over her head and ushering her inside._

_“Can I have a snack?” Aria shrugged,_

_“Sure, why the hell not? Your mom’s not home for another few days, let’s live it up.” Liselle bounced onto the couch and flicked on the console; Aria took the drawing and put in on the fridge, where it would live for a few weeks before Thea lovingly tucked it away; ‘you’re going to keep that shit?’ she had asked once, to a very severe look. ‘I mean, forever? The, she’s going to live to a thousand – that’s a lot of bad fucking drawings.’ “What do you want, kid?” Poured herself a stiff drink._

_“I dunno Dad.” Aria sighed, leaning on the counter and sipping; staring at the fridge door. She narrowed her eyes and set her glass down on the counter, approached the steel machine as if it was ready to strike.  
“Liss, who’s this man in your drawing?”_

_“Uncle John.” Her blood ran cold and she snatched the flimsy paper off the door, ripping it in her haste. Liselle peered up and over the couch back;_

_“Hey! Dad, you ripped it-“_

_“-Liselle, come here. Please.” She hissed through her teeth, trying to stay calm. Shot looks to all the windows and crouched down low in front of her daughter – hidden behind the island – placing her hands on her frail shoulders._

_“He said Auntie Irissa says hello, but I didn’t know who that was, so he said he was Uncle John, and Auntie Shepard should call him.” Aria flipped over the drawing and saw a scribbled number; matched the scrawl on the wall perfectly. She ran her tongue along her top lip and breathed out a shuddering breath._

_“Okay, honey, tell me exactly what happened.”_

_“Dad, are you mad at me?” Aria shook her by the shoulders, rage spilling over; fear masking as rage making her lose control._

_“What happened, Liselle?!” She began to cry and Aria gathered her into her arms, “I’m sorry, baby. Daddy’s not mad at you, you did well; thank you for telling me; Daddy’s just worried; she’s scared.” Liselle looked up, tears streaming down purple cheeks; over white markings so much like Aria’s own. She had never seen her father like this; terror on her face. “I’m sorry, Liselle, but he’s a bad man, okay? Don’t ever go near him again.” Her chest was heaving._

_“But he said-“_

_“I know, baby. It’s okay. Just promise me, okay? Promise.”_

_“I promise, Dad.”_

_“Okay. Now we’re gonna go to Aunt Liara’s and we’re gonna all have that snack.”_ And I’m going to fucking kill the bastard.

 

Liara answered her door and Liselle threw herself into her arms, knocking the wind out of her and causing a tiny spike of pain. She paled, but hugged her back, watching Aria’s terse face over her shoulder; cold eyes, rigid creases next to her mouth, her half-moon marking distorted by her scowl. “Hello Liselle; come in.” Liara dropped her to the floor and Liselle scampered into the kitchen, throwing open cupboards,

“Are there any of Aunt Shepard’s chips?” Liara smirked at Aria, who shrugged;

“Kid likes human food, what can I say?”

“No, sorry, Lissy, but if I give you my chit you can-“ Aria grabbed her wrist and shook her head, ‘no.’ Liara nodded, understanding immediately what the concern was for. “You can order a movie on the console,” she quickly covered. “And your Father and I will order dinner, okay?” Liselle shrugged and found her preferred seat on their couch, scrolling through movie choices. Aria walked down the hall to the office and shut the door after Liara followed her. “John?”

“The fucking cocksucker was at her school today; Shepard’s on her way home, by the way. I just called her.” Liara nodded, sat in the desk chair at her cramped desk while Aria sat on the edge of Shepard’s, which was strewn with miniscule guns and fins, glue and paint. “She still does this crap? Thought she’d grow out of that…” Swept a few pieces aside and Liara cringed; was going to get an earful about that. Liara dug around in her drawer and handed over copies of the Alliance documents she had given Jane. Aria read them and looked up at her, “So, this guy’s a bad dude.” Liara nodded,

“He sent three quarters of his unit to die on Torfan, just to ensure every last batarian was killed; murdered, in fact. Took no prisoners,” she paled a little again and Aria felt a quiet kind of sympathy; her eyes softened a little. _If that was Thea… if we hadn’t had Liselle…_ she went back to the paperwork, dismissing the weakness.

“Well, I don’t take prisoners either, Blue, but I get the sentiment; so I’m guessing Shepard knows all this now?”  
“She does,” Jane dropped her bag in the doorway and Aria shot off the desk, “and if you were human you would know who ‘the Butcher of Torfan’ was too – too bad they never released his name to the public; I would have found my long lost brother before he was trying to kill us all.” She smirked, but it was hollow; her eyes glazed and vacant.

They ordered takeout and let Liselle watch whatever she wanted; sat at the island and ate sloppy food out of cardboard boxes and spoke above the explosions and gunfire coming from the action vid. “Well, the apple doesn’t fall far from the leather corset,” Jane laughed, motion over her shoulder with a tilt of her head. “Should I call him?”

“Fucking A, Shepard;” but Liara looked worried. Was rubbing her stomach without thinking; was doing that a lot lately, even when she wasn’t pregnant. Green eyes met blue and Liara stopped, flushed plum and sighed.

“And say what, Shepard?” She asked, taking a sip of Jane’s fizzy cola drink and shuddering. “ ‘Hello, I’m your sister, remember me? I think there has been some confusion, as you are currently attempting to kill me and everyone I hold dear’?” Jane stared at her, mouth agape.

“I think I need to limit _your_ ‘Aria’ time.” Liara blushed again and waved her away, reaching across the island and taking some of her fries. “He’s not trying to kill us,” she replied, mourning the loss of her potatoes. “He’s-“ she looked over at Liselle and lowered voice, “fucking with us.”

“What?”

“Fucking with us-“

“-Don’t swear,” Liselle said from the couch; weary. Like her mother.

Shepard sighed, “If he was trying to kill us we’d be dead.”

“Like hell we would. I don’t go down without a fight, Shepard.”

“Nor do I,” she shot back. “I just mean he would have struck before all this. He wouldn’t give us warnings. A goddamned number.” Aria stared right into her eyes; the same look she used to see in bed, right before she took her in, or slipped inside her – deliberate acknowledgment.

“You’re right. I may have overshot this one, Shep,” she tipped her head back and dropped a noodle in her mouth, “So what does us calling him get us?”

“More information,” Shepard stretched, her back aching from the bed on the Normandy.

“Wait,” Liara was off her stool and into her office before they could respond; came out with an Omni-tool. “Untraceable. Used it on Tela-“

“-not that it did much good…” Aria sniffed; she ignored her and handed it to Jane.

“Better safe than sorry;” Shepard smirked at her idiom. She dialed the number on the back Liselle’s drawing, and waited.

“Hello little sister.” John’s voice was deeper than she remembered, but Jane would have recognized it in her sleep. “I hear you went and died on me like Mom and Dad; I’m glad to see you’re back.” Shepard closed her eyes,

“John. It’s been a long time.”

“No vid? I thought we could catch up face to face…” Jane rose from the island and paced back and forth up the hall; couldn’t calm her restless limbs.

“We’ve been face to face,” _you bastard,_ she thought, trying not to think of him as her older brother. The brother who had taught her how to ride a bike, how to play guitar, how to kick a ball and do push-ups, and just _be_. Just be who she was; who she turned into. He was there in her and it killed her.

“Fair enough,” he laughed, “I was very proud of you, Jane, getting that medal.”

“You were spying on me, Johnny. You sent my wife flowers.”

“What? I can’t be excited to be an uncle?” Jane growled, the vein in her head sticking out, her left hand clenching. “By the way: nice catch, Janey, she’s beautiful. Good in bed too, I bet; she’s got that sexy librarian thing going on-“

“-you do not speak about her-“ Jane looked up the hall at Liara, watching her; her breath was coming out fast now, through her nose.

“-I always knew, you know. Even when you were ten: the way you looked at my girlfriends. I never cared. I loved you.”

“Stop. Stop it John. What do you want?” Her voice range down the hall, echoing even over Liselle’s movie.

“I want the information your wife and the dear councillor dug up. My boss does, and he’s not a man to cross. With her sister dead and Vasir gone you’re the only links left, and, well, Cerberus would rather expunge… than kill.”

“Could have fooled me... Okay, set us up a meeting, somewhere public, daylight. Just me and you Johnny, and maybe I’ll agree. Leave the kid alone, leave my wife alone.” John laughed again, heartily.

“You’re a good kid, Jane. God, we could have been a dream-team, you know.”

“Goodbye, John.” She disconnected and let out a rough breath, leaning against the wall. _So much for family reunions._


	8. Interlude

Shepard was sitting at her desk, painstakingly putting together a quarian migrant fleet vessel when she felt hands wrap around her waist, soft lips on her neck. She was happy to see Jane happy with her models. Hadn’t seen her touch an instrument in weeks; months, but this was good; this was a start back to normal. Shepard with glue in her hair from her latest creation and small red string marks across her fingers from her guitar; rotating her wrists incessantly and cracking her back from the piano… that was normal. Liara ran her tongue along her skin and she shivered;

Shepard smiled, resisted the urge to reach up and run her fingers along Liara’s crest; didn’t want to get glue all over her. “Hey,”

“Hello.”

The weeks had passed without any strange visitors or cryptic messages; had passed without word from John. At first Jane had been wary, looking around corners and sleeping lightly. Now she was ambivalent; either he would call, or she would track him down and put a bullet in his back if he turned into the sinister lurker he had been. She felt Liara draw back and she sighed, wiping her hands on the towel on her desk. Turned in her chair and saw she was removing her top, slinking out of her pants, _that_ look in those eyes; all eyelashes and darkness. Jane gulped, felt a moth-wing flutter in her core; _I want to touch her, to hold her; I don’t know how._ They were beleaguered; there were too many little blue corpses in the back of their minds. But Liara pushed the rolling chair back into the desk, one hand on each arm, naked breasts full and tantalizing, there just out of reach.

“Are you sure?” Shepard asked as she climbed into her lap: straddling; white panties contrasting beautifully against her skin. Liara leaned in and bit her neck, pushed her collar aside and ran that tongue along her collarbone again,

“Do I seem sure?” Jane wasn’t sure where her nerd had disappeared to over the years, but she was too distracted to care. Pale hands wrapped into blue shoulder blades and she kissed her, all the pent-up longing of the last little while rising like a geyser; setting her stomach afire, her spine aflame.

“God, yes, you do. Li, I-“ she almost pushed her back; that black monster in the back of her brain screaming ‘danger.’ … _So tired of trying to make babies; just want her hands on me in love; just want_ her _. I’m about done with it all. I’m ready to yield; throw up the white flag; this is a no-go. Except I know she’ll do it anyway; it’s not like she needs my input. She could just take it from me while sleeping… I know she won’t though. She doesn’t need me in this equation. It doesn't take sex, with asari, but we always try that way. Have to. I need to; I think she does too._ These thoughts ran through her mind as hands ran along nipples and over arching backs; Jane stood and Liara wrapped her legs around her waist, allowing her to carry her to the bed, where underwear was gone and Jane’s tongue dove between her thighs, making her cry out; making her stomach clench and her making her drip over her chin. Shepard forgot her reservations; just needed to be inside of her; needed to have this marriage-bed-love; this carnal proof of their connection. She leaned up long enough to tear off her own shirt – while Liara thrashed on the bed, the loss of Shepard’s mouth almost too much to bear; so desperate to feel her on her skin, in her: her mind, her body. Shepard leapt to the dresser and tore open the top drawer, tearing through underwear and bras to find their toy; her favourite, the one that let her _feel_. Liara whimpered from the bed; eyes blackening at the idea of Jane throbbing inside of her, heart beating fast, fingers trailing between her legs. Shepard was back over her in an instant, sucking on her neck as Liara reached down and palmed her; long, soft, feather-light touches that made her groan and buck; made her swell and harden.

“I need you inside of me, Jane,” from somewhere near her ear; a nibble on her earlobe and she almost came right then. “Fuck me,” breathless, gravelly: a word rarely used by her blue-eyed beauty; a word raw and filled with such low-pitched, primal need. And Shepard obliged; and as she entered her with one swift, sure thrust Liara cried out and grabbed her around the back, and they rose together with each long, slow drive; fluids and heartbeats mingled; Shepard so grated, emotionally, that she felt like dying. So thankful; felt like she could – that she would – die, without her there, in her arms. Without her there, quivering and pulsating around her, so close to the edge.

But there’s the tugging; like Liara had pulled on the rigging of the ship that was Shepard; directing the sails, and she almost pulled out; almost stopped; wanted to pull away from the meld that had begun without her even knowing, but she was terrified of what that would do to Liara – what that would do to any potential baby she was trying to craft. She was sick of it; _sick of sex as a means to an end; had thought that this time – she really wanted- me- and her-just us-together –_ _Sick of letting her down; sick of it all._ She realized too late, as they both fell over the edge and cried out to the heavens, that Liara must have heard it; _must know._ Rolling through her head like a brush fire out of control. _I’m sorry._ She sent it to her, from her heart, in her head, over and over. _I’m sorry;_ and for the first time in their married life Liara shoved her off in anger, and Shepard rolled away; blue skin curled into blue skin, snapping her mind shut quick enough to make Jane dizzy and sick. _I’m sorry,_ she thought to herself now. _I’m sorry; I’m sorry; I’m sorry._ Pitiful in her head; heartbroken. Sore. Still didn’t know how to touch her.

They lay, silently brooding, in bed; neither had spoken since the explosive orgasm hostility. Liara’s back pressed into Shepard’s front; Jane’s arms around her waist. She had allowed that; had pressed into her touch instead of flinching away, and Jane knew she was hurting too. Held her tighter; this awful time in their life like a dream, their inability to be normal, productive, sapient beings just dangling over their heads like an anvil, ready to crush all the work they had put into their life; into each other.

She spoke, into her cooling body, trying to keep her hard-Commander voice in check and out of the bedroom.

“We could… there’s another way, Liara… you don’t need me. She would still be ours; you could use anyone to randomize-“

“No. Jane. No.”

“If we were both human we would have to-“ Liara sat up, turning around and looking at her with daggers; they dulled into cloudy blue sadness.

“We are not, though. I am asari, and we have been creating offspring with other species for-well, since before humans even had language. We are made to do this.”

“Clearly you are not,” she spoke before she thought; and the look on Liara’s face took her breath away: hurt melting into fierceness; cold. Jane could picture her as a defiant young teenager at that look. “And can we not call it making offspring?” She was angry now. The stubborn streak infuriating her; _just take my solution. We’ll have a baby and you’ll be okay, and I’ll be okay, and there will be no more blood and crying and sadness._

“What would you like me to call it, Shepard?” She leaned over and pulled on a shirt, threw on the lamp, “a futile exercise in family? A pointless adventure? Murder? I’m murdering our babies?” Jane reached out to touch her: to explain to her that it _wasn’t her_ ; that she’s so sorry, she didn’t mean - she flinched away and something in her snapped;

“Call it whatever you want then, because I’m done with it, Liara.” Her brain screamed: _You’re not a murderer, God; you’re the best thing that has ever happened… That’s me, remember?! Maybe there’s something inside of me that doesn’t need to be replicated…_ she got up and found her clothing, pulled it on as Liara wept on the bed. Stormed out and slammed the door; not even mad at her, just mad; at the world. At everyone who was not them who had a child or dared to try.

After wandering around for an hour, smoking and fuming and kicking things, she realized there was one person she didn’t begrudge: Aria.

She rang the doorbell and Thea didn’t ask any questions; just led her the guestroom and stroked her hair and let her cry until she fell asleep, listening to her ranting and lamenting and apologizing to her absent wife.

Liara cried herself to sleep too; but she wasn’t alone. She was pregnant again.

 

Jane stumbled home the next morning. Liara met her at the door and hugged her tightly and Shepard clung to her; never wanted to let her go again.

They lost the baby before John ever called.

_It’s been four weeks since their fight and Shepard is trying to rouse her from her sleep. She doesn’t know what woke her; belayed parental instinct or coincidence; either way, she recoiled and closed her eyes, slowly. “Liara, wake up. Liara.” Shepard hadn’t even known she was pregnant._ Did she know? Is she keeping it from me now? _“Liara.” Shaking her, gently, because she’s in shock; because the blood is covering the bed – drenching the bed, everywhere – and Liara stirs, coiled into herself and waking slowly; finally revives herself from whatever dream-place she’s in, and reaches down with a tiny noise from her throat - a noise of pain; her hand comes away deep purple: black. An oil spill. It’s trembling, and that motion flicks minuscule droplets of what was their baby across her face; purple dots like paint splatter. Blood is everywhere: on the pillow, on her legs, on her shorts, on Shepard; she’s sure the mattress is ruined; that they’re ruined: a blood soaked bed ending their foray into the wilds of parenthood. Shepard breaks down, finally reacting to the horror of it; wailing at the darkness and death that has stolen their life; has stolen her wife from her. Made her withdraw into herself and keep it all from her. It’s a low sound, but one that Liara has never heard from her before, and Liara knows in that moment that they’re done: there will be no baby, there will be no more trying and trying and leaving their dead children behind them. Jane is shaking too, and they’re holding each other, grasping each other, sagged down and drained; gutted. Black-bog fumes of iron permeating the air, tainting them. Liara only whimpers, so used to her body betraying her, flushing her flesh and blood as if it’s poison; killing her children. Shepard hasn’t seen her eyes in weeks – she thinks – not really. It’s killing_ them _. Each lost child taking small pieces of their hearts with them when they go, and Jane isn’t sure if she has any heart left. Any fight left in her._

“I can’t Liara. I can’t see you go through this again and again. I can’t do it anymore…”

“I know.”

And they decide to stop much like they had decided to start; without deciding at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been doing some things differently in this one, and I'm hoping it's working. Playing around with tense and voice, purposefully; I don't know if it's noticeable or just looks like an oversight? 
> 
> Also, it's much less of a slow boil, and much faster paced - working for people? Or feels crammed? 
> 
> I know when writing longer, non-serial fiction you can try these things and see if it pans out in the long run, look back over the editing process, etc. - but when you're posting in a serial fashion (as I do with these fanfictions, trying something new/pacing etc.) you can't go back and reflect as it as a whole, so feedback is always always appreciated.


	9. Chapter 9

Liara heard the cover of the piano being lifted and banged open, and opened her eyes. It was still dark out, but the pre-morning horizon was turning a deep blue; _early_ , she thought. She rolled over and threw her arm over Jane’s pillow – cool and comforting – she must have been up for a little while. She smelt coffee, and debated sitting up, grabbing a cup and coming back here to read; neither of them slept much lately. Tossing and turning and creaking bedsprings faded into dreams of small children: cooing babies, soft and squishy; toddlers like Liselle had been, all energy and learning; family dinners and vacations; sometimes the dreams turned dark, like their waking hours, but she didn’t want to dwell on those… Liara froze, with her feet halfway to the ground, as the haunting, lower register notes hit her ears:

Shepard’s heart personified; made real and turned into music; set free. She sat on the edge of the bed, letting it wash over her, letting herself get swept up in it. Letting it sooth and calm the rogue wave in her heart – the winds calming, dying down, and turning her boat back to shore; coming to port; the haunting combination of so few notes stirring something inside of her. Heard her humming over it. Whatever dark melody had captured Shepard’s heart melted almost seamlessly into something lighter; melancholy, but child-like - and Liara rested her hands on the mattress, it taking her weight.

_‘Can you hear me talk tonight?_

_Thoughts across the big, big white;_

_White with every shade of blue_

_I will send to you.’_

_‘You leave but never disappear,_

_I can hear you loud and clear._

_Makes me think: it goes to show_

_Love is letting go.’_

 

 _When had she written this?_ This dirge for the fallen; this tribute to their children. She padded down the hall on bare feet and stopped, just around the corner, Jane’s throaty, clear voice her own original temptation; irresistible and seeming to call to her soul, it crashing against the rocks of her buried emotions. She imagined Jane there, hunched over with her terrible playing posture; the Song Bird to her Little Wing. Tears welled in her eyes; _Oh Shepard… I know, my love. I feel it too._

 

_‘Between you and a little green dot_

_in a world without sound_

_There is a love that's forever,_

_it goes round and round and…’_

_‘I can feel you here with me,_

_Sailing through eternity._

_Blanket in a world of snow,_

_Love is letting go._

_Love is letting go.’_

 

 _How had she captured every emotion I’ve felt for these little lost souls? Always here, in my heart, forever…_ _How did she do it?_ The strapping, strong, commanding solider one minute, the goofy, cheeky, sensitive, musical artist the next. She loved her with every beat of her heart; fell for her all over again. _I can do anything with her next to me,_ she thought, her heart tight and full, _I can even face this; I will never let her go, but it is time to let them go._ She came around the corner as moment after the notes faded and headed to the coffee pot; felt Shepard’s eyes on the back of her head. She poured them both hot, strong cups – Jane’s black, as always, her’s with sugar and cream – and sat next to her on the bench, kissing her cheek; didn’t say anything, just handed her the mug. They watched the sunrise, together and hand in hand, content for the first time in months.

_I knew you. You were inside of me, growing; I loved you. I loved each of you. You were here, and I loved you._

 

“We’ll take the Normandy.”

“Yah, Shep. You impress him with your huge co–“

“Cockpit, on the ship…” Liselle wandered into the room, giving them all a very Aria-like look when they turned away. Jane raised her hands, glaring at Aria.

“It doesn’t matter how we get there: if he wants to meet on the Citadel, we’ll go. Honestly, it makes me feel better knowing he is far, far away from our home.” Liara was unloading Aria’s dishwasher; helping out while Tevos was stuck off-planet. Shepard had received a message from John, coming through in the middle of the night and just when she had given up on hearing from him:

‘Presidium; 14:00; the 12th. Alone.’ She had replied, with one word:

‘Fine.’

“There’s no way I’m trusting him; you’re coming with me,” she pointed at Aria, who was prudently cleaning her gun at the island. “You’re not.” Liara opened her mouth to protest and Aria chuckled,

“Yah, good luck with that one, Shep.”

“I am not an invalid, Shepard,” Liara banged the dishwasher closed and slammed the cupboard she had been loading glasses into. “I am coming with you.”

“You just want to ride her ship…” Aria drawled, not looking up from her gun, “and I’m not even talking metaphorically, which – _mmmmm_ – was always a good time.” Liara blushed and denied it, but Jane laughed;

“She’s right – you do!” Liara stomped out of the room and joined Liselle on the floor, colouring books open. “She does.” Aria nodded;

“So, you know he’s not going to show up alone, right?”

“I figure, yah.” Jane rubbed her neck and sat, itching her arm and sighing. “So, you any good with a sniper rifle?” Aria bit her lip and finally looked up,

“I suppose. Better with this,” she loaded the Carnifex, “or this,” her biotics swirling.

“No biotics in the house, Dad-“ they flared out and Aria rolled her eyes.

“Don’t have kids, Shepard. Real downers.” She pulled her breath in between her teeth, “sorry.” Jane shrugged, but looked to Liara; prayed she hadn’t heard.  
“Ok, you’re my cover incase shit goes downhill. Liara will act as lookout, cause apparently she’s coming-“

“Yes, I am.”

“If he looks like he’s going to shoot, kill him.”

“Are we giving him the documents?” Liara had risen and rejoined them,

“Yah; might as well. Do we really care what they’re up to? What a dead councillor was doing?” Both asari nodded; agreed.

“I don’t give two shits, honestly. Never did; wanted to just get her out of the way to begin with.”

“Good example for your daughter, Aria,” Liara tutted. Picked up her gun. “So, when do I get a gun?”

 

“Commander.” Shepard nodded, the image of Anderson fuzzy and patchy; flickering in and out; _I guess they haven’t finished all the upgrades,_ she thought, standing in the Normandy’s comm room and grinning like an idiot. _My ship. MY ship. Fucking-A._

“Sir,” she saluted and Anderson did the same. “I sent my crew request in; received?”

“Yes, Commander. We’re still working on contacting all personnel, but in the meantime we found you a Chief Helmsman: Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moreau. He should be checking her over before departure,” Shepard nodded again: felt the first flutters of nervousness; a maiden voyage combined with onboarding a crew, plus a volatile – _albeit sexy_ – criminal and her wife on the same vessel; _what could go wrong?_

 

She strode to the bow of the ship, passing the sparse crew at their consoles; passed a large command centre with its galaxy map swirling. She heard Jeff before she saw him: heard the laughter of some of the crew ahead. A small man in a baseball cap, he lounged at the helm, seated but owning the room.

"You know what pisses me off? Calling this the cockpit. Alliance ships have bridges. Asari ships have cockpits. Oh wait. No they don't." Another round of laughter. Shepard approached, stood behind him, at ease but all stern lines and piercing eyes. “Speaking of, I hear our new captain is banging an asari; maybe two…” He raised his eyebrows and waggled his tongue. The crew was silent. “She’s right behind me isn’t she?”

“She is.” Shepard spoke, biting the inside of her cheek to keep the look plastered on her face; she waited a beat as she watched Jeff’s neck turn red. “And, she is.” She smirked and held out her hand. “And, you’re right: they don’t have cockpits.”

“Commander,”

“Joker.”

“I like that.”

“So, how is she? Handling well?”

Joker shrugged, “The lights are all flashing nicely; this is like 98 percent of my job. I just watch buttons flash. Sometimes I press one; No?” To himself, “read your audience, Jeff.” Shepard put her hand on the back of his chair and leaned over, “Retrofits are always a pain in the ass,” he said to her, looking up, “but she’s good. She’s a good ol’ girl.”

Shepard clapped him on the back and went to find her wife. Jeff called back to her, “Commander? So, one or two?” She turned and winked,

“Let’s just say, Joker: stay away from Aria T’Loak if you’d like to be able to sit in that chair.”

 

The door to her cabin slid open with a hiss and she saw Liara standing in front of the fish tank. “The ship is lovely, Shepard; this is beautiful.” She beamed.

“It reminds me of you,” she wrapped her arms around her waist and tucked her neck into Liara’s shoulder, “of yours.”

“I do miss those fish.” She spun in her arms and looked up at her, “we have a lot of time to kill, Commander.” Shepard’s knees went weak; _Commander… yah, I can get used to that in here._ Tingling between her thighs. She kissed her, the glow from the tank dancing off their skin, rippling and cascading.

“We do…”

“Why do I sense I ‘but’ in that reply?” Liara smiled, pushing her down onto the bed.

“I have ‘Commander’ stuff to do,” she sighed, bouncing on the mattress and frowning. “Really. I do. Plus, I have to go find Aria; make sure she’s not- I dunno, shoving one of my crew out of the airlock, or abusing my pilot.” Liara nodded, rubbing her shoulder. “Oh, but wait. I have something for you.” She sprang up and reached into the armor locker, pulling out a small, heavy case. “Open it.”

Liara slid open the latch and pulled out the gun; lighter than Aria’s Carnifex, but substantial. “It’s a Predator, and be careful with it.” Liara turned it over in her hands, nodding.

“Thank you, Shepard.”

“Hey, I figured once you get shot you officially have license to own a gun,” she winked, ran her hand under her shirt to the bullet scar; knew it so well. “Do you know how to shoot?”

“Yes,” Liara swatted at her, “I grew up in a country home, Jane.” Shepard laughed, dodged her smacks.

“Good. I want you to be safe, and sometimes biotics don’t cut it.”

“I’ll remember that next time you want me to ‘liven things up’ in bed.”

 

When they docked and were on the ground, in the decontamination chamber with its bright red light and monotone voice, Shepard began to shake. Perceptible only to the three of them, she knew – they knew her inside and out – but it was there. The idea of speaking to John, inches away from her brother at last, was like walking through a dream world of running colours; and she wished she didn’t have to go it alone. “Liara,” she barked, and her wife jumped; except she wasn’t her wife then – was someone under her command. Someone to keep safe. “You’re going shopping; he knows who you are so you have to be far enough away that he will actually think you’re just browsing while I do what we’re here to do.” She nodded, a strange rigid set to her musculature; taking orders agreed with her.

Aria pulled back the chamber to check her thermal clip and looked over at Jane; murder in violet. Shepard, in her full gear, reached around and took her Widow off her back. “Take this,” she shoved it into Aria’s hands. Aria looked it over and compressed it back into its resting form. “You’re providing cover, so find somewhere high, and private.” Watched her walk away, “and don’t steal anything – Aria, I’m serious. Don’t steal a skycar to get there.”

 

…

 

Shepard sat on the bench for an hour before moving. She had seen the sun flare off of the Widow’s barrel every now and then, so she knew Aria was in position; Liara was nowhere to be seen, thankfully. She sighed and kicked a rock, “a fucking bust,” she mumbled to herself, standing; still wary. _The council – and Anderson – is going to chew my ass out for wasting fuel;_ had expected a few days on the Citadel at least. She dialed Aria and Liara on an Alliance secure channel and sighed; “No show. Reconvene at the dock.” As she strode off the Presidium, with much less bravado than she had entered it with – an ad began to blare at her, and she resisted the urge to shoot it. “Why do I have big fucking guns if I can’t use them…”

“Jane Shepard, are you missing something in your life?” She stopped and turned; the bright, sunny female voice had twisted, merged, melted into a monstrous, wavering pitch before leveling out. It didn’t sound like an ad anymore; it sounded like John. “Is your wife barren? Has your whore left her rock unguarded and weak? I guess you’ll find out. Keep the damn information, little sister. I’ve got Omega.”

 

“What the hell is he doing?” Aria roared; Shepard had met them at the dock; jaw so tight her teeth were squeaking. “This is your fault,” she pulled her gun on Jane, who raised her hands, walking slowly toward her. “He’s your Goddamned brother. Jesus, Shepard, you’re like a disease.”

“Aria-“ Her breasts heaved in the black corset. She whipped the sniper off her back and threw it at Shepard’s feet;

“Take it; fucking raise your weapon, pussy.”

“-Aria; don’t.” Jane’s hands were steady, eyes locked on Aria’s. Knew she wouldn’t do it. Mostly. Knew she still loved her. _There’s a very fine line there, Shep,_ she thought.

“Do it.”

“Aria-“ she was inches away from her now, gun pressed into Jane’s stomach, “Why does John want Omega?” Aria cocked her gun; it hadn’t even been loaded.

“No reason. From your perspective. But there are plenty of people out there with long memories. I’ve had a few careers. A few names; fucking hell, Shepard, you know as much as I do; I lean toward a particular type of work. It tends to encourage professional rivalry.” She pressed the barrel into her armor hard enough to dent; quaking with fury.

Liara took the shot instead, putting a hole in the concrete pillar behind Aria. Aria began to laugh; it sounded like mayhem. She holstered her pistol and sauntered onto the Normandy; still laughing. “It’s still your fault… nice shot, Blue.”

 

“I should find her.”

“Let her cool off,”

“Cooled off Aria is worse; she wouldn’t have shot me.”

“I know. Here, let me help you.” Jane was still in her armor, sitting on the bed in her cabin; the gentle rocking of the ship lulling her into a false calm. Liara began to unclasp her as she spoke.

“I should have known. I should have fucking known!” She slammed her chest plate on the floor, leaning back and peeling off her underarmor. Liara had pulled off her arm protection and was kneeling, working on her legs. “I should have seen through it; they expect me to run this ship and I can’t even deal with my own brother.” Shepard leaned over her knees, cradling her forehead in her fingers.

Liara lifted her chin;

“I am so proud of you,” _her Commander, her Shepard._ “You are everything they think you are.” And her clothes are off, and she’s over her, hip to hip, and her eyes are black and her azure is wet.

“Liara-?”

“Shush. It is just us here; just my body and yours. I want you. Just you. I want to touch you Commander.

Shepard.

Jane.”

And she does.

_I love you, Shepard._

Their pace quickening, their breasts pressed close, their breathing in concert, harsh and fast, the only sound in the room; the sound of pleasure, of love.

 _You are so brave and kind and perfect_ \- and a thousand other things - all running through Liara’s head; through her head and into Jane’s, reveling in her, lauding her and loving her:

_Her confidence, and her sideways smirk; flashing eyes, mischievous eyes, green and wonderful and - her musicality, and the low timbre of her voice, breathy and powerful, raising in pitch when she sang; her love of food, of coffee, of laughing – that loud, raucous laugh; her heroic streak, the moral compass that never waivered, made her stand up tall in the face of anything; her hands, large and talented; red hair, love your hair- Softness, her sensitive solider- and-_

They cried out together, their orgasm tearing through them like lightening; like an electric shock, lasting a moment and forever at once.

 

She found Aria sprawled in the mess, taking up two seats and regaling her crew with what she considered horror stories. “Quite the racket, Shep. Blue’s a screamer, huh?”

“Uh-oh. Shit. I assumed this place was soundproof.” She rubbed her back “they _have_ to change that bed-“

“I bet they do…”

“-it’s too hard.” Aria snorted, raising her brow; _too easy, Shep._

“All right Shepard, fun’s over. We need to move fast. I’m itching for revenge.”

Jane leaned on the long table, “and how do you propose we take back an entire space station, T’Loak?”

“Deceit. Distraction. And a big fucking army. They lured me away from Omega and ambushed my people. Fuckers.”

“We don’t have a ‘big fucking army’ ”

“Speak for yourself-“

“– the Alliance is not going to… Cool it Aria;” she instantly regretted that; flinched away from _that_ look. “First we need to make contact; find out _why_. No offense, but who wants that piece of shit city-” She was pushing her luck, she knew. “I just mean – there has to be a reason. It’s gotta be about you, not Omega.”

“Eezo. It’s full of fucking eezo,” Aria chewed her nail. Shepard nodded, screwed her mouth up sideways; _well, yah, that would do it._ “My eezo. My ‘piece of shit city,’ my fucking rock;” she sighed, crossing her long legs and leaning with her elbows on the table, cleavage laid bare, on show - to the delight of the remaining crew; softened a little. “Shepard, I know my reputation. I know I’m hated, but this is not about me; it’s about Omega; and he just broke Omega’s only rule: Don’t. Fuck. With. Aria.” Shepard nodded, sat down in the chair she was half using, pushing her boots aside, “and he is going to pay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Absolutely did NOT write the lyrics; the copyright for these great tunes are as follows:  
> BETTENS  
> Bettens Music, Wallaby Records, distributed by Rough Trade.


	10. Chapter 10

_…I blame her and her fucking moral decencies; I would have hunted him down and shot him._

**_You can't blame Jane, darling._ **

_I can and I will._

 

Aria tapped her foot against the sheets, legs bent at the knee out in front of her, her back against the headboard of the empty bed. She rolled her eyes the response:

 

**_She's protecting your daughter. Her wife. Do you think he would hesitate to come after us if Shepard botched this fantasy assassination you have thought out? You think he wouldn't go after Liselle again. Me? Liara?_ **

 

Aria grumbled. Torn between her ruthlessness and the begrudged love she felt for them all.

 

_Tell you what: I’ll put it under advisement._

**_And while you do?_ **

_I’m going to meet with the goddamned Girl Scout. I need her._

**_Plus, you miss her…_ **

_Do not._

 

She did. A little. Hadn’t seen a single orange hair since debarking the Normandy. In the weeks following their falling out she hadn’t even pinged Shepard; had brooded and brainstormed and sought revenge and a crack into Omega on her own.

Mostly she missed goofing around; missed drinking with her, flirting with her, even missed T’Soni. Missed her wife and daughter more.

 

**_I love you, Aria._ **

_When are you done; when will you be home?_

**_Soon. I promise. Sparatus and Valern can handle a few days of sessions without me._ **

_Be safe, Thea._

**_Liselle and Bray will leave before me; expect a call from him soon._ **

_Oh, don’t you worry; I’ve already told him to get his four-eyed ass back here with my daughter. I need him for what I have planned anyway._

**_Call Jane._ **

_Again:_ _I’ll put it under advisement._

**_You be safe too._ **

_I love you._

“Fuck. I guess I better call Shepard.”

 

 

“Jesus, where are my razors?”

Liara rolled her eyes but bit her tongue and called out, “in the cupboard, Shepard.” She wandered down the hall, mumbling, “as always…”

“Count yourself lucky you don’t have body hair,” Jane’s voice echoed off the tiles as she poked her head into the bathroom and saw her sitting, nude, on the edge of the tub, ribs clearly outlined as she bent over to turn on the taps. _She’s losing weight,_ Liara thought, but Jane spoke again before she could:

“I’m like a damn pyjak after three days, tops.” Liara shook her head and left her alone to her shaving, opened the cabinet over the stove and dug through it. The running water drowned out whatever else Shepard was complaining about, and Liara felt her stomach grumble; reached for a piece of fruit from the bowl on their counter. She bit into it and made a face: sour; wasn’t doing it for her. She padded back up the hall, sighing.

“Jane, where are my crackers?” Shepard looked over her shoulder and the razor in her hand slipped a little; she flinched and Liara saw a drip of red turn into a watery line going down her leg. She shrugged, holding her soapy razor like a sword against her wife’s wrath.

“I ate them…” Liara scowled and tried the apple again as Jane spun and dried off her legs with the towel on the toilet. She flushed a deep red, “Sorry.” She bent over herself and dabbed lightly at the small cut on her shinbone; Liara had never seen anyone so tough be such a baby when it came to domestic injuries: paper cuts, bruises from running into door handles, razor burn – all things that could take down the un-killable Jane Shepard. “You never eat them and I didn’t want them to go stale.”

“Well, I want them _now_ , Shepard.” Liara had one hand on her hip; the other held the browning apple, forgotten and waving around. “My stomach is not right; whatever was in that food you brought home last night-“ She greened a little at the thought of the leftovers in the fridge, “-in any case, I would appreciate if you-“ she seemed to realize she was brandishing her fruit like a grenade; Shepard was subtly leaning back into the open air of the bathtub. She made a sound like a slug being stepped on, “Never mind.” She had caught herself snapping at her a little too often since their maiden voyage on the Normandy, didn’t know if Aria’s ire was catching or if it was the pile of work she had found waiting for her when she had returned to the University, but either way she didn’t like the shrillness of her voice. She put her hands on her hips after tossing the apple into the wastepaper basket next to the slatted white cabinet that held what Jane called their ‘bathroom goo’. She was still almost mad, but found herself disarmed by Jane’s frank bashfulness. And nakedness. She surveyed the strip of auburn hair between her wife’s legs with an almost scrutinizing glare, “You know, when I was a child I was obsessed with human hair. I even had-“

“-Wait.” Jane stopped her toweling but continued to stare at her legs, “you never eat crackers. You always make me buy them, but you never eat them… They always go stale…” She looked up at her, slowly, her shaggy hair in her face. “…You don’t think?” Liara actually started, took a small step back.

“No. No, do not be silly; no.” Jane dropped the towel and got on her knees, digging around in the seemingly endless cabinet under the sink. Bottles went flying and Liara bent to pick one up – cream with her name on it.

“Why did we pack these when we moved? I really need to throw them out…”

“Here,” Shepard held up a pregnancy test; a lone survivor of the womb-war. Liara turned her head to the side, wary; scared.

“No, Jane… we agreed.”

“At least we’ll know.”

“But we haven’t in weeks, and when we _did_ , I _didn’t_ -“

“But that night on the Normandy; it was… great. I mean you didn’t tug at me or anything-“

Liara sat next to her on the floor, back against the now-closed cabinet door; she smiled a little,

“Sorry, tug?” Shepard blushed again, felt her nipples harden; thought it had a lot more to do with the memory of that night than the cool bathroom air. Diamonds.

“Well, that’s what it always felt like, like I was trying to come out of my own bellybutton,” she shrugged, “that sounded more eloquent in my head… anyway, I didn’t feel that last time, so you’re probably not…”

“Even if I am we’ll just lose her…” They locked eyes and sighed, seemingly in tandem, lips tucked into lips, eyes tired and overcast.

“Take it. Please?”

“Jane…”

“You’re sick, and tired, and bitchy-“ Liara smacked her on the bare shoulder,

“I am not bitchy;” her voice echoed off the tiles – the piercing volume reverberating. “Oh, Goddess, I am…”

“Please?” Liara stood and ripped open the box, flipping up the toilet lid and going about the daft business of peeing on a stick. Jane looked up at her; a far cry from the first test like this they’d taken, in their first apartment: all closed doors, adverted eyes… _Ah, marriage._

“This is ridiculous…” Shepard wasn’t sure if she was talking about the potential or the act itself, “there has to be a better way.”

“Blood test.” Liara screwed up her face, paled.

“No. That is worse.” She set the little white stick on the counter and washed her hands after pulling up her pants.

They waited.

It slowly began to change: cloudy… grey- an iron-ocean indigo… Blue. _Like her eyes…_ “By the Goddess…” Jane looked at her, all sheepish and furrowed eyebrows.

“Well. We weren’t trying this time.”

 

…

 

Shepard rubbed her back, as she lay draped over the toilet. Draped might have been the wrong word; clutching the ceramic was more apt. “Should we call the doctor? You never got sick with the others…” Liara retched again and Jane grimaced at the wet squelching sounds of her breakfast making an encore appearance.

Ten weeks in and not a spot of blood; but lots of puke and patchy, puffy, blotchy skin, flaking scalp tendrils, strange mood swings.

“Honey?” Liara tried to look at her, but just succeeded in looking pathetic; blue eyes peeked over the edge and saw a twisted mass of uncomfortable and confused lines: Shepard, one hand reaching out tentatively.

“Maybe this is-“ heaving. Again. “Good? I think it is good…”

“We’ll ask Dr. Michel…” She crawled from her knees and Jane helped her the rest of the way up, where she gargled water and washed her face. “Now I am hungry. Again.” Shepard smiled;

“That, I can help with.”

 

…

 

Shepard drummed her fingers on the steering wheel for the entire ride to the clinic. Liara kept looking over at her, smiling inwardly, hands wrapped protectively over her stomach. Flat, not swollen – _yet, please Goddess; please_ – equally nervous. _What if there is nothing? What if there is something wrong…?_ Dr. Michel – Chloe – had rushed her in five weeks ahead of the normal sonogram date; knew their history, knew the risks Liara was taking… She reached out and took Jane’s vibrating fingers; in part to still them, in part to feel her hand in her own. They shared a look. Neither of them would say it aloud:

_It’s her. She’s the one._

The office was cold, even as they sat in the waiting room. Liara fumbled through a magazine while Shepard touched her gingerly on the leg that was crossed nearest to her. Someone coughed and she jumped; made Liara jump. They both laughed a little, but it was tense and as cold as their surroundings. Jane knew she wouldn’t – couldn’t – relax until she saw her there on the screen. Their own little galaxy map; their directive for the next 8 or 9 months; for the rest of their lives. She wished she had her sidearm, not because she was afraid John was lurking – God no, she knew he wouldn’t leave Omega open to Aria’s retribution – but so she could shoot the damn clock on the wall: the only thing she heard above her own panicked heart.

_Aria. I should call her. I need to call her-_

“T’Soni?” A young maiden in scrubs, holding a clipboard in her blue hands, scanned the room.

They rose and followed her in.

Liara changed into the obligatory backless gown and climbed onto the table, wincing as the cold rigid material hit her bare thighs and shoulder blades. A technician – the maiden in the scrubs – lifted the gown and lathered her in some slippery gel. Jane ran one finger through it when she turned to turn on the monitor; Liara glared at her, swatted her away.

“Jane,” hissed through her teeth. Shepard shrugged: ‘what?!’ _Today is our day. Today I am brave, she is brave; the baby is brave. Today everything is fine._

The monitor flickered to life and Liara grabbed her hand, clutching it like she was floundering. They watched as a swirling, whirling galaxy of grey and black began to form, their very own Big Bang; the T’Soni-Shepard Nebula. At the centre, like a sun, was her; barely anything but a taut mass and a steady flutter. A pulsating heart; like bird’s wings, like the trembling hands her parents were holding. Liara squeezed her hand and Shepard exhaled for what felt like the first time in weeks. Had lived in a permanent state of held breath since that day when the stick turned blue. Tears welled in her eyes; green-ghost misty and threatening to overflow. Liara’s fell freely and her right hand fluttered over the gel on her stomach. _It’s so early. There could still be…_ But a heart. _There’s the heart. My heart,_ Shepard thought, looking from the screen to her beaming, gushing, leaking, patchy and puffy wife. She felt her heart throb in her chest; part of it leaving and safely tucking away for safe keeping in her daughter’s.

“There she is,” the tech smiled at them, drawing goofy grins out of their nervousness.

“Yah;” dazed, punch-drunk. “There she is.” Happy.

 

Shepard burst through the townhouse door without knocking or buzzing or any warning; a berserker rushing the ranks, the Calvary had arrived. “Liara’s pregnant,” she slid to a stop in the kitchen, waving a fuzzy holo printout around. “Like really pregnant this time.” She stormed Thea, picking her up and spinning her round and round, “I’m gonna be a dad!” She set her down on dizzying feet and turned to Aria, who was leaning nonchalantly against the island; grabbed her face and kissed her hard. “And she’s healthy and happy and-“

“Okay, okay, we get it Shep,” Aria shoved her off and wiped her mouth with the back of her gloved hand. Thea looked amused, and elated.

“Here,” she brought out glasses and filled them at the bar in the corner, “to your little girl.” Shepard took one and sniffed it, questionably.

“Ryncol?” Thea laughed,

“Champagne, Jane. I’m not a sadist like my bondmate.”

“Well, to our little girl,” she downed it and whooped, careful to set the glass down gently on the marble.

“Where’s Blue?”

“Oh. Shit,” Jane rushed back down the hall and found a glaring wife staring back at her, hanging her coat and removing her muddied boots. “Sorry, honey. I kinda blew the lid on the news…” Lips were thin, but eyes danced like blue gems,

“I heard.” Thea joined them and tucked her face into Liara’s shoulder, hugging her tightly. The murmuring they shared didn’t rise above a whisper but Shepard had a good idea of the content; both women parted with glossy eyes. Even Aria smiled, clapping Shepard on the back and pouring her more booze; quietly, sincerely, all threats of shotgun violence past:

“Good job, Shepard. Congratulations.” Jane smirked and Aria couldn’t help but join in; infectious, juvenile delight; scabby knees and tousled hair and pride. “So, are we going to get my station back?”

 

They sat in the living room and sipped their drinks – tea for Liara, no booze for their baby.

“Aria, I would love to lend you my ship, but as I haven’t even been given leave to take her on missions, how am I supposed to explain space battle at Omega to the brass?” Aria nodded but Jane could tell she was trying not to roll her eyes; or blow her top.

“Tell you what, if we need to storm my castle again in a few years then, I know who to call,” she sucked air in between her teeth, “okay. For now, we improvise. We’re going to punch through their lines and invade. Once we’re on Omega it’s a ground war. Bray has been passing me what he has, but other than a sizable Cerberus army and the fact that Omega is shut tight, we got nothing.”

“Aria-“ Thea looked a little grey, “I don’t like that tone.” Shepard nodded her agreement,

“Don’t worry. I got it.”

“You’re going to steal a ship, aren’t you?” Aria shrugged, “aren’t you?”

“Perhaps…” She flippantly rose and set her glass aside, arms folded under her breasts and thoughts going a mile-a-minute. “I’m going to mobilize the Mercs; Cerberus stole Omega from me, and now they’re squarely at the top of my shit list. Your brother will pay for every second he’s on my station. I’m going to smoke that bastard out, and I’m going to kill him for even daring to set foot on Omega; and that day is coming.”

Liara spoke up from her seat, “have either of you tried talking to him?” Aria laughed, a sound that ran up Liara’s spine and into the base of her skull; like broken glass.

“And say what, Blue? ‘Please give me my rock back?’ “ She did roll her eyes then; Shepard patted Liara’s leg,

“She’s got a point, Aria. Maybe he’ll negotiate?” Aria threw her arms up,

“You call him then. I ruled Omega with an iron first, but the people were free. Their lives were theirs; I preserved that. This man took that all away: I have nothing to say to him.” Jane sighed, flicking on her Omni-tool’s contact list and scrolling. He answered on the first ring and activated his video portion even when Jane refused to do the same.

“Jane, took you longer than I expected to find me. Hello.”

“You stood me up, John… What do you want?”

“I have what I want,” it took Shepard a moment to place where he was and another to try and hide it from Aria; he was lounging on a large, deeply coloured couch, pink lights dancing around him. _Afterlife_. Aria was clenching her fists so hard Jane knew if her gloves had been off there would be tiny purple half-moons on her palms.

“What do you want?” Aria repeated. John just smiled at the new voice,

“Not you; Omega. And I have it, so, I think we’re done here. It’s been nice, sister.”

“I. am. Omega,” Aria flashed Jane a dangerous look; _your brother is a dead man._

“Eezo, my boss has a little side project – well, not so little; you should all come see it sometime, I think you’d get a kick out of it – anyway: come work with us, Janey, and I’ll give your asari her rock back. Once we strip it of able bodies and resources of course.” Aria growled.

“Shepard…” Liara’s neck prickled in warning. On the other line John seemed to snap,

“Stop calling her that! _I’m_ Shepard. John Shepard. She is no one.” Liara grabbed Jane’s wrist and turned on the vid, staring straight at the man who had called her bondmate nothing,

“Funny how no one seems to call you that, John. She is the only real Shepard. She is Commander Shepard; you are nothing but a vile, violent, dangerous, weak little man.” Jane looked over at her wife with half an amused smile on her face.

There was an unhinged look about him now, twitchy and bug eyed.

“You know nothing, asari; I know your every secret – all of you – while you all fumble in the dark.” Liara narrowed her eyes, but raised on brow marking,

“Is that right? You’re a little boy inside still; you had a tumultuous relationship with your father, who always seemed to value Jane, despite being adopted. I’m guessing you took the risks on Torfan to prove something to him, even though he was dead: you were finally a son he would be proud of, but you still didn’t rise in ranks fast enough, and once it was over you couldn’t bare to face the families of the soldiers you killed so you defected. I’m guessing you became a Merc under a false name, but you haven’t actually let Jane out your sight since, just never had the nerve to contact her. Then Cerberus got their hooks into you and convinced you that Jane had stolen it all – your life, your family name, the rank you should have had, and that it was all our fault – the alien's fault. If Jane had stayed home on Earth she would have never met the asari who spurred her into action; that the Alliance valued the dead batarians who were murdered on Torfan more than the humans you sent to die there: valued them more than the man who murdered them. How am I doing?”

For a moment you could hear a pin drop, then John snarled and disconnected; Liara turned to see identical looks of awe and surprise on their faces.

“I am a very good researcher.” She rose and threw Jane’s Omni-tool back at her; had unclipped it at some point during her rant. “Thea, I am hungry. Lunch?”

 

Jane stood on the balcony off their bedroom, the night lights of Serrice all lovely twinkles below, the skycar traffic leaving trails of multi-coloured halos. She stared at the holo on her wrist, nothing more than a confusing mass – a bean-like creating floating in a strange underwater world. She lit a smoke and looked over her shoulder to where Liara lay snoring, tucked under mountains of covers. She knew she should stamp out the smokes, but… it was foolish she knew – she just couldn’t. Not yet. Felt like a curse would come down on their heads, sneak under the door at night, slip into their mouths while they slept and… no more; too soon. Too cautious. Plus, the trouble that was John played on her mind, constant and terrible. Jane knew that despite Liara’s spectacular performance and Aria’s bravado, they were really no closer to finding a way onto Omega. It would take her months to rally the disorganized Merc gangs and find a suitable ship. For all they knew the Mercs were already under John’s thumb. She sighed and tossed the spent butt into the plant pot that served as she ashtray – reminded herself to empty it before Liara saw the mess of yellowing filters and muck – and took another long look at their daughter. _You’re the one… I just know it. Come home to us._ She made sure to lovingly stroke Liara’s still-flat stomach when she climbed into bed. _I love you. Both of you. I’ll protect you both until the end of time._

Fell asleep with the image of a perfect little blue girl in her head.


	11. Chapter 11

Liara was blooming. Not puffy or patchy anymore, simply radiant. She hadn’t noticed herself growing larger – not yet – but Jane had; had a habit of coming up behind her and wrapping those long arms around her waist, fingers laced together over the expanding bump she affectionately called their cuttlefish.

_‘I don’t like blueberry, it seems too twee; I know you don’t like ‘Inky’…’_

_‘She is not a cuttlefish, Jane… she is a sentient being, who will have thoughts and emotions and a whole life ahead of her-‘_

_‘Indulge me.’ A kiss usually ended that argument._

She was currently blooming, but doing so over the now-familiar edge of the toilet. Shepard was in the office, but Liara heard the clacking of keys stop so she knew Jane was listening intently for signs of distress. “I am fine, Jane,” she called out; splashing water over skin that was paler than it had been ten minutes ago. “It will pass,” _soon, I hope. Thea had almost no morning sickness…_ She peered into the shared office space and caught Shepard quickly closing a tab on her console. She sidled up next to her, neck red and ears burning; “What are you hiding?” She punctuated the question with a quick kiss to her cheek.

“Nothing, just digging into Omega’s weaknesses,”

“Liar.” Jane blushed and spun in her chair, pulling Liara into her lap and kissing her hard. She ‘hmmmed’ into her open mouth and fisted a handful of hair; redirected bloodflow was certainly not a side effect of pregnancy she was expecting. Not that she was complaining… “Do not distract me,” she almost whispered, pressing her forehead against Shepard’s. “What are you hiding?”

“Baby names…” Shepard mumbled, lifting her shoulders in a guilty shrug. “We haven’t talked about it, so I didn’t know if you were ready…” A look of fear dashed across Liara’s face; freckles standing out for a moment, pupils expanding. She kissed her again, less passion and more love. “Forget it.”

“No-I, I think we need to give her a name…” They hadn’t given the others names. It was too painful.

“Have any old family names you’re dying to use?” Shepard raised her brows, “I’m afraid my asari naming database is a fairly limited archive.” Liara laughed,

“She may be asari, but she has a human father. What about your family? Your mother’s name?” Jane screwed up her face and squeezed her a little,

“Nah. Never liked the name Hannah much – I loved my mother, but… Hannah T’Soni? Not lyrical enough. Benezia?” Liara laughed again, the sound of dry kindling crackling.

“No. I love my mother too, but… can you imagine? What an unfortunate name for a child.” Shepard grinned as if to say ‘I didn’t say it; you did.’ “Jane?”

“Yah?”

“No, I mean: ‘Jane,’ Jane T’Soni, after her father.” It was Shepard’s turn to laugh.

“Okay, I love you, Liara, but really? Plain Jane? Jane the Pain? Janey T’Soni?” She actually shuddered, “besides,” she looked away, “I was given that name by a faceless organization as standard procedure…” Liara gulped, but turned her face back to her own,

“She would be the luckiest girl in the world to bare your name,” it was her turn to kiss Shepard, one hand behind each ear, pulling her into her with a pent-up longing she hadn’t known was there. Shepard moaned into her tongue as it pressed against her lips, silently begging her to open her mouth. Jane’s hands drifted, opening her button-up with lazy hands as their kiss became less intense and more languish. Lazy; filtered sunlight through a screened porch; a fuzzy blanket, keeping them warm on a winter’s night. A kiss of quiet passion; of enjoyed moments. Liara shrugged it off her shoulders and Shepard stopped a moment, her hand cupping the soft swell of her pregnant belly. _I can’t believe we did that…_ She thought, running her thumb over the blue skin, _I can’t believe she’s carrying my child._ That awoke a fire in her and she palmed her breast, the other hand wrapping around her back to keep her in her lap. Caveman urges of ownership and protectiveness and procreative lust swarmed through her, and Liara seemed to be feeling similar; surged into the contact, lifting her hips deftly to pull down the barely-shorts she had been wearing around the house.

“I love you so much,” running fingers along bare thighs. “You’re-my baby-our baby…” she couldn’t articulate the raw, primitive lust mixing with the bloom of love; _we did that. Our love did that. Our_ bodies _did that._ Liara moaned again, higher in pitch; seemed to read her mind; she didn’t _have_ to articulate it. Shepard took the hint and moved her hand lower, groaning with her own desire: fully clothed and trapped by a dripping and soundlessly pleading asari. Biotics began to swirl; Liara was losing her ability to control them – much like human mood swings. Jane had touched her hundreds – _thousands, maybe?_ \- of times, but it never ceased to take her breath away: that first pull through her silk. Sometimes it was teasing; or to the point, rough and primal; sometimes she was wet and ready, sometimes she was taken by surprise and it was a slow build – still pleasant; fingers, tongue, toys; directly where she craved it; lollygagging around where she wanted it: it didn’t matter. All that mattered was it was Shepard, and her body reacted to it every time. This time was no different; she tried to spread her legs further when Jane found her - circling her clit with slow, purposefully light touches as she kissed her neck and jaw – but the chair would only allow for so much. She pressed forward into the touch and was thrilled when Shepard relented – didn’t pull away: gave her the friction and pressure she wanted. The noises she made – from barely breathed whimpers to high moans – drove Jane wild; but she didn’t want to rush this; didn’t want it to end. Liara took the choice from her, running a hand along her forearm and down to her wrist, taking pale fingers in blue and pushing them inside; Jane broke out into goosebumps at Liara’s blatant taking of her own pleasure; made her stomach weak and tight. Groaned into her neck, “Liara…” She began to hit the swollen – _extra swollen_ , she thought – spot inside with every upward thrust and downward drag, and Liara saw stars; white-hot electric heat building from her limbs and pressing into her core; each pass voltage that threatened to push her over the edge. She opened her mind and found Shepard’s; couldn’t bring herself to use her body to return the pleasure, but she could use her mind. Jane went rigid as the sensation hit her, groaned and began to buck every time Liara did: every time her fingers hit that spot; over and over and over and- there was no time to share words or coherent thoughts through the meld, they came with a thousand points of light in their minds, their bodies tensing and releasing; Jane felt Liara cry out in her head but also heard the scream outside of their shared headspace, loud next to her ear.

“ _Goddess! Ah, Shepard… Ohh…”_

Felt her throbbing around her fingers, not letting go; felt a veritable torrent of wetness flood over her wrist, onto her pants. That sent her over the edge again, and Liara pulled back from the meld, too spent to share another climax; caught the very beginning and fluttered around Shepard’s fingers again.

“God, Li… I-“ collapsed against the chair back, sweating through her t-shirt. “Well, that’s one way to distract me from baby names…” Liara swatted at her and groaned as she felt Shepard remove her digits. Pressed her cooling forehead into Jane’s still-warm neck.

“A conversation to be revisited.”

 

…

 

The first time she felt it she was teaching. A small _tap-tap-tap_ on her stomach, and it made her falter, losing her sentence midway. She smiled; it was so distinctly different than the internal fluttering’s she and she alone had felt so far; those were all butterfly wings in her ribs; not as much movement as making her presence known. This was different.

As her students packed up and left she typed a quick message to Jane: _she’s kicking._

Liara stretched out her back, her swell had become something more like ball thrust up under her shirt, and it was beginning to take its toll on her spine. When it first appeared she had refused to admit it, even to herself, despite Shepard’s insistence that she was showing. The soft swell of her lower stomach was one thing – womanly, barely a bunny slope; she was fit and trim - aside from shapely hips and her rather well-endowed chest – and she always had been. This was different. A pooking. A tightness to it that was unlike anything she had ever experienced.

_Shepard had wrapped her hands around her one day, about a week ago, gazing into the mirror in their dressing room. Liara had been side-on, flattening her shirt against the bump. “Told you,” she said, kissing the curve of her neck. She had gotten to her knees and kissed the bump too. Kissed a few other places down there as well; made her late for work._

Somewhere, deep down, she knew it had only just begun; that she was going to be much bigger before their daughter made her entrance. She couldn’t even begin to think of complaining: had craved this with every fibre of her being, reveled in every new sensation, every step taken that they had missed with the others. Their other daughters, who had never even begun to live; who had had the cards stacked against them from the very beginning:

 _“Ms. Lawson sent over your files, Jane,” Dr. Michel is a delight, all European human tact mixed with not-her-first language silliness that Jane grins at every time. “Genetic recoding is not something to take lightly, no no. Poor babies were trying so hard to live without the proper sequence of genes.” She was looking at a datapad with now-familiar x-rays and scans of a broken and beaten deceased Jane Shepard. “And poor Liara was trying and trying, oh, such a mess.” They looked at each other, almost sheepishly; only Chloe could turn a phrase so. “It’s those nanites, they are vital to keeping you alive, Jane, and the babies: they did not have them, but they tried and tried to live: were very strong to even be conceived.”_ It was me… I knew it, _Jane almost felt smug, but also wispy-grey; brought her back to that terrible time and place. She took Liara’s hand, placed the other over her growing – and presumably just fine – daughter. Liara squeezed. “But nature would not let them. Now, she is taking new parts of you – or rather, the old parts of you – to make this belle fille. Genetics are complex, but she seems to have found you.” They were waiting for another sonogram, the monitor currently off and Liara still gel-free._

_“So, if we were to try again - in a few years – for another?” Shepard paled; of course Liara was already planning ahead. The Doctor nodded, patting her bare leg,_

_“Sometimes these things just happen anyway, I am not belittling, darling, it is simply a fact of life – it may be a risk again; but this one – “ she ran her hand along Liara’s stomach, “she is healthy. Shall we look at her?” They both nodded; Jane felt the goosebumps return. As Chloe set up Liara peppered her with questions and admissions:_

_“With her, I did not do_ anything _. I did not try to make her, I simply – “ she seemed frustrated, unable to explain, especially to a human – even one with a specialization in Asari reproduction. “It just came naturally, like breathing.” The monitor hummed on and Liara flinched and gasped as more cool gel hit her skin,_

_“Precisely; the way your body is supposed to do it. You are able to choose to conceive, but you do not need to control the process, doctor.” ‘Doctor’ came out ‘Dec-ter’ and Jane loved this woman even more; knew why she was the top OBGYN on Thessia. “You over think, Liara,” ‘Lee-are-ah’ and Jane giggled. “Your brain is getting in the way of your body,” Shepard nodded, furiously, dodged Liara’s smack._

The perfect storm of fucked-up-ness, _she thought,_ My shitty luck, her giant intellect… man, I hope the cuttlefish doesn’t get both of those…

_“See, T’Soni,” she spoke, “I knew all that ‘research’ and ‘technique’ was going to bite you in the ass someday,” Jane smiled; Liara frowned. “Too soon? Yah… okay, sorry.”_

_“Have you felt her yet, in your mind?” Dr. Michel was turning knobs and moving the wand over Liara’s bump –_ planet, more like, - _Jane thought; she had popped. “The beginning of the meld?” Liara nodded, and surprisingly blushed._

_“Yes: like a tickle at the back of my head; or a gnawing, anxious feeling sometimes.” Michel nodded,_

_“When she is upset, hungry sometimes I ‘ave found.” Liara beamed at her,_

_“Oh, and, sometimes it is like I know what she wants: a song, a snack, some quiet…” Jane stared, slack jawed; hadn’t realized how much her daughter was now a tiny little being. How deep this went. Michel nodded again,_

_“The miracle of the mother-daughter bond. Even more pronounced in asari; it thrills me so. It will become more and more as you are further along, and she will be melded with you for the first few years of her life, so I would practice some mental walls while you have the chance; although I am sure you have had training – I forget, every young girl does.” Liara nodded; like riding a bike or the ability to use crayons for humans, biotic training and meld guidance were part of every asari’s upbringing. Shepard suddenly went cold; pale._ I’m not going to know how to teach her anything…

_The thought was cut short as she came into view; the black and grey fading in and out as Michel seemed to chase her around Liara’s womb; Shepard’s eyes went very wide. Arms, fingers, thrashing; not happy with the disturbance; a head, with small nubs of crest tossing from side to side; Liara smiled, turned to Shepard:_

_“She’s not happy; she’s no morning person like her father, more like me: likes her sleep.” Jane nodded, barely perceptible. She felt like she was going to weep; not happy cry, not leak, but break down and let all the pent-up emotions of the last year and a half flood out. There she was: their little T’Soni. She seemed to settle and Shepard saw what was unmistakenly Liara’s nose in profile._

_“Oh my God…”_

_“She is beautiful.”_

Thea and Shepard had already begun painting when she arrived through the door. They had coerced Aria into coming by promising to plan. Omega, Omega, Omega, the only thing on her mind for the past months; but she had refused to pick up a roller or a brush. The pastel yellow was going on thick and fast and Liara had to squeeze through the mess of baby furniture lining the hall. Shepard smudged paint on her cheek when she kissed her hello.

“Sorry.”

They bantered around names while Aria drank and Liara nibbled on anything edible; Thea – so unusual in pants and a simple shirt – and Jane painting away, carefully edging and touching up missed spots in the golden evening light.

“Sara?”

“Nope – first girlfriend,”

“Darinia?”

“Is that a disease?”

“Shut up, Aria.”

“Aleena-“

“Fuck off, Shepard…”

Liara snorted.

“Arianna?”

“Too close to Aria – no offense,”

“None taken, Blue.”

“Caitlyn;” they all shrugged, “Valerie? That’s kinda asari-like.”

“Asari-like?”

“You know, lots of vowels; sounds like an ocean song or something…”

“Tireana? Raena?”

“Ugh, I am going to be calling this kid cuttlefish until she’s four hundred.” _If I live that long…_ a sharp pang in her chest at that. _Genetic remodeling does not immortal make._

“She kicked for the first time today…” Thea smiled over her shoulder at Liara and put down her roller, surveying their work. “Thank you, for your help, really.” Tevos smiled, placed her hand over Liara’s stomach and sighed. She wrapped her arm around her bondmate,

“Let’s have another, Aria…” Aria went the colour of lilacs in spring and conveniently reminded them they hadn’t eaten. Dinner it was.

 

“A lot could go wrong with this plan, Aria.” Shepard downed the last swallow of beer and shook her head when Liara offered another one. She wanted to keep sharp, not just for tactic’s sake, but in case anything went wrong. With the baby. If they had to dash off at a moment’s notice. She didn’t voice this to Liara, who would call her silly and overprotective, but still…

They retired to what Shepard called the deck – a large balcony overlooking Serrice, but she felt fancier using the word ‘deck.’ Aria lit up a smoke and Shepard hesitated before doing the same. Thea and Liara looked over at them from the kitchen; Liara smiled. Had never once bothered her about the smoking, not even now. She still felt like scum. Wanted to be alive for the rest of her daughter’s life.

“Yes, it could. We could get blown to shit; we could enter Omega safely and die on impact; we could get shot stepping out of the ship. We could die in our sleep tonight, Shepard. Stop being such a pussy.” Jane took in a long breath, nodding absently and smoking her cigarette down to the filter.

“Have mercs ready?” Aria nodded, leaning over the railing, her legs crossed behind her, her ass on display in those tight leather pants. “A ship?”

“Working on it.”

“How much time?” She shrugged and handed Shepard another smoke. _Chain smokin’ it is,_ she thought; _you be the chimney, I’ll be the chain._ Didn’t know where she had heard that one.

“A week. Tops. I need you in on this one, Shep,” she looked at her with open, honest, purple eyes. Jane agreed.

“I know.” Shepard sighed, leaning her back against the rail next to Aria; scratched her nose. “So, we deploy when you get your ship. Call me and I’ll be ready; the Alliance doesn’t need to know everything I do.” Aria opened her mouth to speak; some adoration or sincere thanks, she was sure. She shook her head, _no need._ She licked her lips. “I’ve got to come back, T’Loak. For them.”

“I know.”

 

They were in bed and Shepard was trying to rustle up the nerve to tell Liara about their plan. She tossed and turned, the open book of baby names going from her nightstand to her chest to the bed between them, unread. Liara was trying to get comfortable, laying on her side with the datapad propped up; laying on her back with it held over her head; against the headboard with a pillow in the small of her back; she looked over at Jane, all snake slithering in the sheets.

“Can’t get comfortable?” She asked, sardonically. Shepard ‘hmmmed?’ and noticed her noticing,

“Oh. No, I’m fine. You can’t though.” Liara rolled her eyes,

“I will get used to it I suppose; I am huge. I feel like an elcor; no, bigger: a small asteroid. A planet.” She sighed, rolling onto her side again. The baby is between them, like a wharf jutting into the sea, except in this case the wharf is blue and the sea is white. Jane reached out and put a hand on their dock; the mooring that finally anchored them; it’s tight and Jane suppressed the urge to flick it to hear it vibrate. Sometimes a ten-year-old boy at heart. Liara felt the baby stir, rolling over as well – or the aquatic ballet equivalent of rolling over.

“I am not going to be able to teach her anything, Li. I don’t know anything about being an asari, your culture, your upbringing.” It’s out now, in the open. Take it or leave it. _‘Asari often raise their children alone… even if you vastly outlive current human lifespan predictions…-’_ her words from eons ago echoing in her head. “I kinda forgot you’re asari – I mean, I just see Liara; a woman. My wife… I guess I’m not the best bondmate – I should know all about your people - and I’m going to be a terrible father.”

Liara looked at her for a long time, taking Jane’s hand in her own. “Jane; first of all: you are wonderful, and you know more about asari than you think.” Jane opened her mouth and Liara put a finger to her lips, “Secondly, did you father teach you how to play piano?”

“No…”

“Did your mother teach you to fish?”

“Well, no.” Liara lowered her hand,

“Were either bad parents? Terrible parents?” She shook her head, getting the point; but Liara wasn’t done. “It is the same with every species, every culture, Jane. When there is one parent, does that child somehow get a lesser upbringing?” She shook her head again but interrupted.

“-but when one parent is different-“ Liara looked cross,

“Jane, we are not all the same, somehow, somewhere. Is she not your daughter?” Shepard looked indignant,

“Yes, she is.”

“Is she human?”

“No.”

“But still yours?”

“Yes.”

“Then shut up,” Liara cracked a smirk, “you’re going to be a wonderful father – if you even want to use that word – mother, _parent_ , it’s all the same. I will teach her about melding and biotics and reproduction – perhaps not sex… that seems to be better suited to you…” She blushed, purple and bright. Cupped her belly protectively, “the only reason I know anything about human culture is because I am a fastidious, boring, nerd: not exactly the best example of a well-rounded life.”

“My nerd,” Shepard nuzzled into her, the peninsula of her belly getting in the way,

“I am terrified as well, my love. That I won’t know how to love her enough, that I won’t know what she needs from me… that I will pass on – well, my mother and I…” Shepard kissed her, and when they broke apart Liara continued,

“You will teach her to be brave and athletic and resourceful; how to play piano and to cook. How to be so human: laugh quickly, love quickly, see the beauty in everything around you. How to hold her alcohol and how to be at ease with whatever sex or species she fancies – when she’s quite old enough. Those are things I can’t do…” Liara took her hand again and placed it above her navel; You will teach her how to do and how to be a thousand other things, including how to be a good person: that is not culture specific. And she will love you for it.” She thought their daughter had been sleeping but apparently she had woken her with her restlessness; she kicked Shepard’s hand, hard. Jane started, her eyes flying to Liara’s, wide and green and amazed.

“Oh my God,”

“Meet your daughter.”

“Lana; let’s name her Lana.”

Liara looked over at her and nodded, “Lana T’Soni. Yes, I like it. I love it. Lana,” she turned it over in her mouth, feeling it on her tongue; rubbing her stomach and feeling a rush of love for them both.

“Vega told me it was your name, when I first saw you… I thought it was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard. Until I heard ‘Liara.’ ” The lay in each other’s arms, feeling their daughter kick intermittently, Jane laughing at each ‘tap.’

“I have to go to Omega with Aria.”

“Yes. I suspected.” Shepard opened eyes she hadn’t realized she had closed, “Sometimes it feels like the whole damn galaxy is trying to kill me.”

“It should have picked an easier fight.” Liara’s eyes danced with light; gentle, understanding. Certain. Blue for miles.

“You come back to me, Jane Shepard. Come back to _us_.”

“Always.”


	12. Chapter 12

Benezia hummed to herself while she did the dishes, unaware that on the other side of the continent her daughter was doing the same. Liara popped into her head and she promised herself she would call her once her hands were free of suds and grime. _See how the baby is doing; see how my baby is doing_ , she thought; not that she would ever voice it that way aloud: secretly hoped her daughter _would_ voice those things to the granddaughter she was carrying; she sometimes wondered if her particular brand of stern love carried through strong enough... _Probably comes from my father_ , she thought, rinsing a heavy frying pan: cast iron, a gift from her daughter-in-law

 _“Cooks the best fish you'll ever taste,”_ _Jane had bragged when she unwrapped it. “I'll show you my Mom’s recipes…”_

She smiled to herself: they would be fine parents. Decided in that moment to pack their bags and visit - spend a few weeks with her glowing daughter - if she would have them. Benezia T'Soni wasn't about to show up empty handed or unwanted, even to her child's home.

Her Omni-tool rang as she dried her hands, and she smiled again: Liara. Something to be said for that mother daughter bond; being melded with someone for nearly four years of their life left distinct traces, even a hundred or more years later. _She's so young_ , she thought before answering. _So much life ahead... I do hope labour will be easy for her; maidens are not generally designed to be giving birth_.

“Little Wing. I was just thinking of you.”

 

Liara was lost in thought, scrubbing her breakfast dishes and putting away the cookware from the night before. Jane was onboard the docked Normandy for most of the weekend, meeting with the last of her crew and planning for their first dry-run test of the stealth systems. Anderson had been over for dinner and Liara had refused to allow the Captain to help clean up, despite his rolled-up sleeves and desire to help. She felt Lana kick her bladder, hard, and let out a small ‘oof,’ rubbing the girl through the thin layer of skin and muscle that separated them. “I know, it is cramped in there darling; you’ll be here with us soon.” She hummed and dried a plate, put it away and turned to tidy the living room: whiskey glasses on the coffee table, cigar butts on the deck, a small bit of mud from someone’s shoe. She smiled; it was nice to have guests. The present Anderson – _David_ , he had insisted – had brought for Lana lay unwrapped on the island and she took it to the nursery, placing the small, plush rabbit on a shelf and leaning the framed holo of the Normandy proto-type floating in space against the wall, ready for Shepard to hang. She knew if she did it herself she’d be in trouble, despite her pleas of able-bodyness.

_“I am pregnant, not ill, Shepard.”_

_“Let me, please. I like taking care of you, and her- please?”_

Shepard was the doting bondmate to a T, all craving fetcher and foot-rubber, meal prepper and awe-struck love. Liara felt a surge of tenderness for her every time that misty-eyed wonder crossed her face; also felt a bolt of pride: _yes, I am carrying your child, making your offspring with my body and blood and bones._ It was a feeling unlike any academic accomplishment she had ever achieved; put the world into perspective.

Jane had craved this for so long; she had as well. Every time she saw Liselle run into Shepard’s arms, squealing with joy; with every cuddle, every sleepover where ice cream and vids were the order of business. Every soft, thumb-sucking night where Auntie Shepard had sat with a bundle of purple on her lap, overheated and homesick. Liara could never chase the fears from their niece, but Jane could, without fail; a goofy face to make her laugh, a story to distract – usually heavily censored and revolving around Aria and Jane - or a sweep-and-destroy for monsters under spare-room beds. Liselle, always looking up at her in awe, with such love and respect.

_Liara heard the little voice as she came up the hall, hushed into a whisper; some secret just the two of them shared. She stopped outside the office door and listened:_

_“Like this?”_

_“Yah, that’s is. Go slow if you have to, it’s not a competition.”_

_“Okay.”_

_“What are you forgetting?”_

_“Uh… oh! Glue?”_

_“Yep; go ahead, just a little. And don’t touch it with your fingers – your mom will kill me if you glue your fingers to your head.”_

_“Does that happen?”_

_“Yep. At least you don’t have hair to get it stuck in,” Liselle laughed. Liara peeked into the room and saw her, tongue out of the corner of her mouth, tiny hands working tiny tweezers, gluing a tailfin onto a transport vessel. The fins were a little lopsided, the doors had small gaps on each side, but Jane and Liselle were beaming: proud. Liara’s heart had ached, full of love for them both; full of yearning. Wanted to give her wife this, exactly this, forever. Still had hope it would happen; somehow, someway._

_That night, after Liselle had been tucked in and Jane had sung her song after song and read her book after book Liara found her at her console, importing piano tracks and vocals, bass and drum; splicing and mixing, with headphones in to keep the place quiet._

_“What’s that?” Jane looked up and smiled,_

_“Just something I put together…” Shepard took one ear bud out handed it to Liara, “it’s not done…” Liara listened, smiling._

_‘She says she's got it all planned out_

_She's got places to go_

_And I don't have a single doubt_

_She will find her way home’_

_‘And she laughs like she's free and it's like a thousand lights at once_

_She moves with her soul’_

 

_“For Liselle?”_

_Jane shrugged, “for her. For our daughters; I can see them so clearly in my head, Li.”_

 

_‘Shine, shine when the world is dark as night_

_Don't be afraid to know you're right_

_And when you just can't shine no more_

_That's what I'm here for’_

_‘I know that I can't trade with you_

_I was ten once before_

_But all the things that make you you_

_I would pay highly for’_

_‘And she's laughs like she's free and it's like a thousand lights at once_

_She moves with her soul’_

_‘Shine, shine when the world is dark as night_

_Don't be afraid to know you're right_

_And when you just can't shine no more_

_That's what I'm here for’_

_‘And I know you're here for a million reasons, some still to come_

_In my heart you're here to make sure that I have one more girl to love’_

_‘Shine, shine when the world is dark as night_

_Don't be afraid to know you're right_

_And when you just can't shine no more_

_That's what I'm here for.’_

_Had still been optimistic and excited; grief had yet to pull them down. “A song for my girls. All of them.”_

 

Liara hummed it to her stomach, rubbing the boulder that was her new body as she took in the bright yellow room, with its dark wooden crib, white basinet, stuffed toys, and collection of children’s books, colourful and jubilant. “This is your home, Lana, and this is your song; from your Daddy to you.” She flicked off the light and flicked on her Omni-tool, dialing her own parents; missed them now very much. Benezia answered right away:

 

“Hello Mother.”

Little Wing, I was just thinking of you. How are you? How is my granddaughter?” Liara smiled and leaned on the counter, flicking on the vid call and scanning her belly. Benezia seemed at a loss, all smiles and wet eyes.

“Oh Liara...”

“I know. I am huge.”

“You are beautiful.” Liara didn’t know how to answer. Benezia sat on a stool at their island, propping the tool up and relaxing. “Has the sickness passed?”

“Mostly,” Liara groaned. “I hope.”

“I was terribly sick with you but apparently your father didn't have a lick of sickness with any of hers, so maybe next time you'll get lucky.”

 _Next time_ , Liara thought, smiling.

“Is she well?” _Stable?_ She thought; didn't voice it.

“Yes. She is kicking - it delights Shepard to no end. I can hear her thoughts more and more. Yesterday I had a fuzzy image pop into my head while I made lunch… she seems to like sandwiches quite a bit. Again, her father.”

“You were very quiet, I guess she does take after Jane,” they both laughed. Liara spoke on impulse, a pit of loneliness in her gut:

“Mother, would you and Father like to come visit? I know you'll be here for her birth, but I would love to have you now...” she blushed; so afraid to ask for help. For company. Benezia kept her true feelings buried, simply nodded.

“I will check with your father but I think that would be just fine.” Benezia’s head turned as she heard the door open, briskly. “There she is now. I will-“

The world turned upside down in an instant; Liara saw a tall figure approach – black and ominous, out of the camera’s range - and heard her mother cry out as the Omni-tool was swept off the island and clattered to the floor. From the sideways angle, she saw a splatter of purple hit the cabinets and a strange, metallic voice:

“We got her, sir.” Liara tried to scream, but nothing came out; she couldn’t believe what she was seeing, but her brain screamed ‘John.’ Except it wasn’t Shepard’s brother. Couldn’t be. He was on Omega.

“Liara?” Her mother spoke, low and weak; unlike she had ever heard before. Meek and dazed. Liara, hands over her mouth and eyes wide and staring, saw the familiar shape of her mother’s hand slide into view, clawing for the Omni-tool. “Liara?”

“Mother!” Barely able to keep her eyes off the screen, she dashed blindly to the office and grabbed the second untraceable com, sending a message to Shepard and Aria through frantic panic; hands shaking fingers and rising bile threatening to spill out. Her daughter, sensing the commotion in her mother, stirred and Liara sent a wave of calm to her: _It is fine, little one. Peace. Sleep._ Kept her heart rate in check; couldn't lose her, not after coming so far.

“Mother?”

“Liara... Your father...”

The Omni-tool was wrenched from the ground and she caught a glimpse of a pale Benezia, slumped against the island; on her side and bleeding; a deep cut on her scalp was leaking purple down her chiseled face and her eyes seemed to be going in and out of focus, rapidly. “You…” Her eyes slipped closed.

“Mother, I—Don’t leave! Fight him!” yelled, even though both Omni-tools were so close.

Liara saw large, white boots step into view: humanoid, armoured. A similarly clothed and gloved hand, yanking Benezia to her feet, and grabbing the comm. Liara quickly turned off her own vid before he could see her; sent a message to her father.

_Mother is in danger. Quickly._

The voice came again, sending a chill down her spine; electric spiders:

“I know you're there T'Soni; my boss would like you to see this. You saved me the trouble of recording it,” she turned away from the screen, but heard the sound of metal hitting meat. The soft sound made her cry out at the same time her mother did. Heard the clamping sound of chains:  of something being done to her mother. Benezia screamed, long and penetrating, and Liara heard the sound of overcharged biotics flickering out. _Biotic dampening... Goddess. Mother._

“You’ve always made me proud, Liara:” her voice, underwater; a million miles away. Liara chanced a look and saw her there; sitting wilting against the sink with a metal band around her neck, chains running to each wrist. She was trying to see her, trying to make her understand. _She knows she’s going to die…_ “Always, Liara. I love you so-” The white shape passed in front of the camera, too close – blurry – looming over her mother, and Liara yelled again:

“Mother – do not pass out, Mom; stay with me.” _No Mother, fight him. I am sorry. This is my fault._

“You will be a wonderful mother. Goodnight, Little Wing. I will see you again-” ripping fabric.

Liara couldn’t watch, and threw her Omni-tool against the kitchen backsplash, crying out at her helplessness. She placed both hands over her stomach; “shush, shush…” heard the thrumming, pulsating ‘ _woooom_ ’ of biotics, another sickening crunch and a strange _boing_ sound.

Then her father's voice cut through the static. “Get your fucking hands off my bondmate;” the clatter of something heavy hitting the kitchen tile. The thick, slow build of biotics; a yelp, a crunch; the sound of metal hitting metal as a body was thrown through the air, and of biotics snapping off. She dashed for her fallen Omni-tool;

“Dad?!”

“You there kid?”

“Dad!”

“She's fine, honey. I got her. She's fine.” Liara heard the snapping of metal and her father grunt. Her mother whimpered as biotic energy swarmed through her veins again. “I got you Nezzie. I got you… I love you;” murmured. Not for her ears. Heard a waver in that raspy voice. “Goddess, if you... I gotcha.”

“The...” Benezia, cloudy and floating somewhere else. Her father didn’t pay attention to the vid; just spoke quickly, and thickly.

“Kid I gotta get your Mom to the clinic. This is probably only gonna need some medigel but the dampener… I gotta make sure she's okay.”

“Go Dad,” Liara was breathing heavy, fast; hyperventilation threatening. She slumped into the couch, shaking.

“We'll call you later. Who the fuck is this guy?”

“I have an idea dad. Oh Goddess it is my fault...”

“This is not your fault Liara, got it? We're all fine.”

“Dad?” She was cradling her belly again,

“Yah kiddo?”

“How did you? He's huge...”

“Biotics; he doesn’t have me in a friggen dampening chain. Plus, a frying pan to the back of the skull doesn't discriminate kid. Tell Shepard that was the best damn gift I’ve ever gotten in my life.”

“I love you dad. Goddess… Mother, if you can hear me: I love you.”

“We love you too kid. Keep calm. Keep my grandbaby safe and happy.”

 

…

 

“They only sent one?! Why not a whole fleet?” Aria and Thea were crammed into the tiny screen. Shepard had Liara in her arms, stroking the top of her arm with a thumb; calming. Collected.

“I think someone may have noticed an army of Cerberus shuttles landing at the T'Soni Estate, Aria,” her bondmate rolled her eyes, clutching her closer.

“They underestimated Aethyta. Many do,” Thea shrugged. “Even the Matriarchs do. I believe a pro-human organization has much to learn about the raw power of asari.”

“As your Dad would say: misogynistic, penile-centric, bullshit culture,” Shepard winked; all coolness on the surface, all molten magma fury below.

“It’s my fault. I taunted him. Goddess… my parents…” Liara buried her face into Shepard’s shoulder and Shepard tipped her head to the Tevos-T’Loak clan: _we’ll talk later; this ends now: he ends now._ Disconnected. Jane spoke low and soothing, cheek pressed into Liara’s crest,

“Your parents are fine, Li. There is nothing you could have done differently. This is good-“ Liara looked up at her, brows drawn down into a harsh line, “it is: hear me out. He’s nervous: scared. He would have never tried something like this if we hadn’t unnerved him.”

“If I hadn’t, you mean,” she sighed. “If I had just kept my opinions to myself, kept the lid on my anger-“

“He’s weak; you were right, and he knows it. Don’t worry, honey. They’ll be here in a few days, safe.” She nodded, swallowing. Jane placed her hand over her stomach, “all of you are safe, and I will not let anything take any of you away.” Liara tried to smile, and Shepard lay with her head on her lap – what little of it wasn’t taken up by their daughter - and began to sing, softly. Liara laughed, quietly, and stroked Jane’s hair.

“She’s thinking of you.”

“What? How-what?” Shepard sprang up, giving her stomach a look of trepidation.

“She heard your voice; keep singing.” Shepard did, and Liara drew up her shirt, letting Jane see the twisting, subtle movements under her skin. “She loves it when you sing; she’s thinking of you – what she has gathered is _you_ : my memories are her memories.”

“Wow…” a slow, hazy grin. She kissed her navel, crooning into it. She seemed to startle, looked up at her looking down, “uh, does that mean, when we – uh-” she lowered her voice, almost comically; a stage whisper: “you know.” Shepard tilted her head down, motioned rhythmically a few times, “ _you know_ …”

“Oh, Goddess, Shepard, really? No,” Liara playfully shoved her off her lap and rose, flicking her wrist at her as she walked away, “I do have some expertise in mental blocks. Goddess – _no_.” She screwed her face up at her. “Unbelievable-absolutely…outrageous.”

“K, well, we’re not doing it until she’s born. Just in case,” she called after Liara; heard her call back:

“Right. We will see how long that lasts.”

_Yah, you’re probably right…_

 

Shepard had phoned Aria as soon as Liara fell asleep; in the dark of her office – where not so long ago she had taught her daughter the art of model craft – the orange glow of the Omni-tool lit her face with fiendish fire. She had her weapons laid out. “Do you have your ship?”

“Shep? No-”

“Get it. Now.” Aria nodded, rose out of her bed and into her own office. This was a conversation for no one else; for dim corners. “I’m not sitting on my hands while this fucker tries to kill my family-”

 _‘You’re like a disease…’ ‘_ _You’ve ruined everything, Jane; you’ve ruined_ me _… You and Aria have done nothing but ruin anything you have ever touched.’ It’s true,_ she thought: had brought nothing but death, destruction, and desolation to their lives; refused to let it continue – to taint her daughter.

“He wasn’t,” Aria crossed her legs and Jane had a view of her azure; for the first time in years she felt herself get wet at the sight of Aria’s naked body. Felt the furnace of her sex rumble to life; soaked. This is where it was stoked: in the shadows, covered in blood. This is where their lust lay, summoned like a shade: opened throats and dark deeds woke the monster in her, and that monster wanted Aria. Always would. That monster was ruthless and craved the body of someone other than her wife; longed for the cries and liquid desire and absolute pleasure of the forbidden. Demanded the life of her brother.

The brute she intended to hide from her daughter until she no longer drew breath was fed on sex and blood and slaughter; had an insidious appetite.

“Bullshit-“ she snarled and checked her rifle and sidearm again.

“He would have shot her in the back if he wanted to kill her. Human or not, he knew her biotics were a risk, and he chose to take it anyway; why? Because he had worse things than death planned for your dear mother-in-law, I believe… especially given the general human view of asari…” Aria raised her brow. Shepard seemed to grow in size, looming like a winged night creature. _Torture? Dismemberment?_ Was very glad Liara was asleep and unaware. _Rape._

“Get your ship.” _Her brother, like a child-king, ordering others to rape and pillage now that he had stolen Aria’s throne;_ “We’re not just getting your rock back, babe; we’re going to execute him.”

On the other end of the Omni-tool Aria was running slender fingers through purple velvet; she gasped as Shepard snarled; purred.

“ _Keep talking, Shepard_ ,” an illicit moan.

“And we’re going to massacre anyone who gets in our way,” she disconnected, ignoring Aria’s climax, and growled to the empty room. Licked her chapped lips. “I’m coming for you, brother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Absolutely did NOT write the lyrics; the copyright for this great tune is as follows:
> 
> Songwriters: BETTENS, SARAH / EREZ, GUY  
> Shine lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaannnndddd we're back!
> 
> Still getting back into my groove after whatever writing block that was... But, we're back folks! Hope you're still enjoying, and I didn't loose to many of you along the way!

“Shepard?”

Liara was in the bathtub. Actually, it would be more accurate to say that Liara was stuck in the bathtub. She called quietly, hoping her voice would reach down the hall and into the office. “Jane?” She sighed, tried to pull herself up again and slipped; banging her should blades on the sloping back. Flat on her own now, the giant boulder of baby creating waves off the waves her failed attempt had caused; a rock jutting from the sea. She grumbled, “Shepard?” Raised voice this time, impatient, as if Jane had any hope of hearing her. As if this is all Jane’s fault. _It is._

“Yah?”

“Come here please?” She heard Shepard grumble and the squeaking of her chair.

“Right now? I’m in the middle of-“

“Now.” She is her mother’s daughter after all.

Jane slunk through the door, blushing, “Sorry-I-“ the sheepish look fell away and a grin spread across her face, galloped across it actually. She began to laugh, clutching the frame for support, “you’re stuck?”

Liara glared, looking entirely ridiculous from her prone position, “laugh all you want. _You_ did this to me-“

“-not true,” Shepard replied, stepping closer and onto a wet bathmat, soaked from the T’Soni Tsunami. “’It doesn’t work that way,’ remember?” Liara threw her hands up, splashing more water,

“Do you remember me laughing at you when you could not get out of the bath yourself?” She raised brow markings, floundering in the cooling water. “She’s just so big,” she whined, motioning to her stomach, “I’m so big… I-“

“Here,” Jane extracted her from the bath and pulled the plug, “come here my beautiful blue whale.” Liara glared again, wrapping a towel around herself. An extra large beach towel… “Oh, honey. You’re so beautiful; even more than you were… more than ever.” Shepard wrapped her arms around her, slipping hands under the towel and rubbing her bellybutton, where it was starting to poke out from her stomach.

 

Shepard couldn’t keep her hands off of her: her belly, her face, her substantially larger than normal breasts, widening hips – Jane constantly had a hand pressed to one part or another, grinning that grin that lit up her entire face. What she doesn’t tell Liara is it’s not just the baby that is miraculous to her. It’s _her_. It’s the way her body, skin tone, even her smell was changing; was different, somehow now, with every cell she helped their daughter shape – and her sex drive… Not that it had been exactly modest before. Now it was… _whew._

She smiled and stroked her arm, couldn’t believe this amazing creature, this wonderful woman had chosen her. _Her, of all beings in the galaxy, and she chooses_ me _…_ Remembered back to seeing her the first time: feeling it in her chest as she looked across the pitch at her. Seeing the future deep in her eyes; thinking to herself: _this woman, right here, she is my destiny. Not the Alliance, not some small-time gang: She is._ Being punch-drunk, first-love butterflies; that first drunken night in bed: _Liara passed out and Jane wide awake, entirely unsure what to do with herself. Feeling like it was the first time she had touched a woman all over again, that same twelve-year-old boy stuttering, stammering heart and fingers and eyes and toes and stomach. Just staring at her: at the curve of her neck as it lay on the pillow, the graceful lines of her crest; wanted to run her fingertips along them, to see if the pale freckles that dotted them were raised or smooth, or hot or cold… The shape of her breasts through Jane’s old t-shirt, the long blue legs sticking out of the blanket – Shepard’s shorts barely hiding anything. Her saliva running hot and thick at the notion of the apex of her leg, where it met… felt like boiling coffee in her stomach; a laundry machine: round and round and slightly too hot, too fast. An hour, two, passed just watching her sleep; the twelve inches between them –_ in her own bed no less! _– feeling like a sticky mile. Talked herself into tightening that gap a hundred times before she had. She had run her hands over her bare arms, cuddling in close, closing the space an inch at a time out of nervousness, shy new-love trepidation. So sure she would wake and be repulsed. Could watch her sleep forever._ Now, she got to do just that every night. Now she was carrying their child – _her_ child – the peak of womanhood. Nothing better in the world: giving her body and blood to her, for her. For them.

 

***

Liara woke, feeling her daughter stir, slowly waking as well. She looked over at her sleeping wife – all fuzzy orange hair and arms thrown off at angles, mumbling to herself in her dreamland; was still strange to be the one who woke so early: military habits permeated Jane. Thought about how so very soon she would be learning another’s habits: how soon they would cease to be two and become three. No longer _them_ , instead a family. Jane had been spurred into action lately, into a frenzy of parental activity, tool belt and bag permanently affixed to her side as she patched and repaired and hung and cocooned them in a safe net of a home.

 

While Liara spent her time nesting – folding soft blankets and hanging tiny clothing; organizing and picking colours and toys and routines – Jane’s been building a strongbox to house her weapons, despite the fact that they were already locked in a steel case under the bed. Liara suspected it was an outlet for something else; a strongbox to keep the darkness in. The darkness she won’t acknowledge or share: forgets Liara can see it all anyway. On her face and in the meld.

She can feel the hatred for her brother in the meld, can feel Shepard trying to hide the murderous rage, the guilt: the snapping pleasure and intoxicating crimson haze of it. The feeling she’s been craving since Tela. The dragon she’s been chasing. Oh Liara knows. The blackness in her. The desire to give into the boil just under her skin. She also feels The Beast that is Aria there, has learned to let it go. She doesn’t let Jane know she knows, but she does. Knows Shepard feels so torn about those residual _stirrings_. Doesn’t care. Loves her for it. Despite it.

 

“Hey,” sleep thick and gooey. Liara noticed her eyes open, as if she had heard her thoughts. Hadn’t noticed her watching.

“Good morning,”

Shepard stretched and threw an arm across her, trying to pull her closer. Forgot she weighed more than usual. Can’t toss her around anymore. She grumbled and settled for snuggling into her shoulder, too-long red hair flung over her eyes. The sun hadn’t risen, the sky still a deep blue.

“You can’t sleep?”

Liara shrugged and rubbed her navel, “No,” soft: so much like the young maiden she had fallen in love with. That she still was, truth be told. Jane leaned up and over, kissing her. Kissing her belly after before working her way up over the dusting of freckles on her chest, all constellations and shapes Jane had named and memorized and worshipped a thousand times. Kissed up until she hit the lighter freckles that dusted her shoulders – pale blue, almost white; Shepard loved those most of all.

 

While Shepard had been building her fortress against the shades of her emotions Liara was busy surrounding herself with friends and family; her parents, due to arrive any day, Liara frantic to see them after _the incident_ ; Thea and Aria, Liselle making her tear up more and more lately, the closer she got to her due date; Miranda and Jack, who were a mix bag in Jane’s opinion: always arriving with tiny pink outfits, N7 black and red, camo blue: a gift in hand every time they arrived. An uncomfortable awkwardness from Jack, always five feet or more from Liara, like pregnancy was catching. Like she didn’t know how to address two people in one body. Shaking her head no voraciously at offers to feel her kick. Always disappearing to pour another drink, grab another snack when morning sickness or weird rashes or hormones were brought up. Jane watched her: this dance of uncomfortable need. Miranda on the other hand hung off of Liara’s every word. Was seemingly vicariously living through the asari: Liara taking her hand, placing it over her stomach, slightly below her breastbone now; Miranda jumped. Smiled. Looked over at Jack, who was half behind a doorframe, with shining eyes but a strangled expression.

 

An overhead phone call, a glimpsed email…

 

_Miss Lawson,_

_While we cannot firmly attribute the cause of the benign neoplasm to the irregularity in your genetic makeup, we can confirm that the progressive damage renders you unable to conceive a child…_

 

 _I got two chances at life because of her,_ Liara thought, _and now I am having the baby she never will…_ the irony of Miranda being her own life giver wasn’t lost on Shepard either. Of her savior being the one they couldn’t help.

Miranda never showed it, not once. Was there to paint and prep and plan and be. These frantic last months reminded her of the flurry before the wedding, when Liara and Miri had behaved similarly and Jack and Shepard had tried to just keep out of the way and not piss them off too much.

Shepard had to remind herself to enjoy these moments with her this time, though, instead of making herself scarce: the way she smelled, the way she seemed to illuminate the room, the softness of her skin, the way she cradled the swell of their daughter. _Just in case this is the only time… our only chance._

The same calmness had enveloped Liara before the wedding, closely followed by her now-bondmate’s dissolution into a tizzy of frantic planning; all ‘By the Goddess’es’ and forehead touches until the day of:

 

_“Oh man, Liara- I was just gonna do a shot with Jack-“ Liara had snuck up behind her at the bar and grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the crowded dance floor. “No-no-no-“_

_“Shut up and dance with me.” She had. Foreheads close, drinks – Jane’s tumbler and Liara’s long-stemmed glass – tipping precariously as they swirled and ducked and dared to grind parts close. Shepard shifting her weight from foot to foot as always when Liara stepped back and wasn’t running the show. Only at a faster pace this time. Liara grabbing her around the waist and laughing, low and musical and drunk and wonderful; all joy and tittering glee. Her teenage dream in blue. Her muse, never more beautiful than she had been, on that night, in that wedding dress._

_The only place she had ever seen Shepard holding back: the dance floor. “Just keep your eyes on me,” pressing close, grabbing her lapels and kissing her, sloppy and hard. Shepard was helpless; helpless to her. Didn’t dare deny her anything. Wouldn’t deny her the world, let alone a silly, stupid, flailing dance. Liara whispered into her ear - as the tempo slowed and a waltz began to play – “Go have your shots… just don’t drink too much, Jane.” As she subtly sucked on her earlobe for a moment and grabbed the thick bulge Shepard had packed after dinner and their first dance was done._

_“I-I thought I would surprise you-“_

_“Oh, I know my bondmate – my wife – well, Shepard,” that coy timbre that was her undoing. “Very pragmatic, this way you do not even have to remove my dress…”_

It _threatened to raise its head, so to speak, as Liara cast a sly glance down, knowing all over her face. Desire all over her face. Did Shepard catch her breasts heaving just a little? She thought she did. Aethyta cut in to dance with her daughter as Shepard stammered and nodded, her own freckles standing out for once._

 

_“I see a pattern emerging, Professor,” Jane had her in her arms, white dress bunched and crooked._

_“Is that so?”_

_“Mmhmm: it seems that alcohol brings out the slut in you.” Liara thumped her on the head with her clutch purse, but giggled._

_“That is a theory worthy of further investigation, Commander.”_ Commander: _deep, gravely_. Dear Jesus, kill me now… just take me right here, Mrs. T’Soni. _As they crossed the threshold of her parent’s guesthouse – their wedding night abode – Shepard kissed her, fumbling and setting her down. Liara whimpered near her ear:_

 _“Do not put me down. Do not let me go. Please.” Shepard obliged nearly driven wild at her pleading. She lifted her back into arms, biceps that Liara loved to see flex shaking as she unzipped her artificial self and hiked up the dress; found her wet and waiting. Blue legs wrapped around Alliance dress blues, bare back pressed into a scraping brick wall – Liara would have the marks their entire honeymoon – thrusting, pulsating, fluttering need against the wall, hard and fast; thrashing, throbbing, primal sex that left them panting for more –_ “Jane!” - _as Shepard dripped down her leg and Liara clawed into her back, biting and sucking and raw. Spent, but not sated, Jane had slowly let her down and stripped her to nothing, savoring every moment as she found clasps and zippers and boning and uncovered indigo and periwinkle skin an inch at time; until she had her panting against the wall, cheek pressed into the brick and Jane on her knees behind her, hands and tongue and voice working her into a frenzy of cries and damp desire._

“Oh, God, Liara-“

_So beautiful._

_Something about her – some indescribable intoxicating spell; the subtle sway of her hips, a sway Shepard was sure she didn’t even know she had; the coy look in her eyes that transformed them from innocent to raw sex in an instant; the tilt of her head. That voice._ The _voice. The only voice that could make her knees knock, her legs weak. She was asari, so of course she was beautiful – hell, even Aethyta was beautiful; they all were. But her virgin innocent went past that. Soared into adorable territory; her own shy sex kitten, schoolyard vixen. When she actually tried it sailed past beautiful to enchanting._

“Goddess-I-“

“I love you- I love you- I love you- I love you- I love you-“

“Where’d you go just now?”

“Nowhere,” Shepard smiled. “Just thinking. About us.”

“Come on then,” Liara got out of bed with less grace than she was used to and pulled on a pair of stained shorts; Shepard cut her off in the doorway and kissed her again.

“I’ll make some pancakes.” Kissed Lana through the almost translucent skin “For both my girls.”

 

After breakfast Jane took her coffee into her office. Liara cleared away the dishes and hummed; reminded her of her parent’s upcoming arrival. She padded down the hall and poked her head in on her wife, “Jane, we still need to clear out the closet in the baby’s room.”

“Yah, okay.” She didn’t look up from the miniscule paintbrush in her hand.

“I would prefer if you did it before my parents arrive.”

“Okay;” drawn out, like a child. Elbows and knees. She put down the tube of glue she had picked up and sighed to herself. Wiping her hands on the rag, she got out of the chair and started down the hall; _no time like the present._

The closet in question was a mix of model parts – little lost travelers who didn’t have a home – boxes of dusty old discs containing papers that Liara had completed in her undergrad; and a single rolled-up carpet. She sighed again and set a chair in front of the opened door, began pulling out piles: Keep; Trash; Check with Wife. She had to make enough room for the chest of drawers devoted to tiny socks and strangely oblong hats.

 

When she was about done she felt blindly around on the top shelf, hands coming away stained grey with refuse. Fingers hit a hard box and she pulled it towards herself, trying to keep it from crashing down on her head. It was a display case made of dark wood and glass, and she handled it with care as she stepped backwards off the chair. Inside was a carefully preserved UNSA flag, folded into a triangle. She narrowed her eyes and called out: “Liara?”

 

“Oh, I had forgotten about that…”

“What-?”

Liara bit her bottom lip and looked out the window, “your funeral…”

“My what?”

Liara shook her head, the memory still unbelievable. “Full honours,” she almost whispered, placed her hand on the edge of the changing table.

 

They had waited for summer before burying an empty coffin that Liara supposed was now dug up, the plot repurposed. _Or saved in her name…_ brushed that away.

_Sunshine, so unfitting, so wrong. A mockery of the grief in her heart – the grey cloud that had made it’s permanent home on her shoulders. How dare the universe go on? How dare the sun shine and the birds sing and-_

_They carried her coffin in – weighed down with that Liara did not know – with stilted steps, staring straight ahead, with reverence and a serious air. Only the Brass knew_ she _wasn’t in there._ “Lazarus is need to know-“ _should have known then they would take her from her again; reenlist her._

_There was a line of friends; a line of family – Liara’s, who had been Jane’s; Vega, Jack. Aria wasn’t there. Refused. But was that a white arm flicking a cigarette butt out of that skycar window? Thea was seated next to her, a hand on her pale blue leg, Liselle in her arms. The horns and trumpets crying their anguish – Liara’s anguish._

_A line of soldiers, officers; all medals and ropes and shining buttons and hats and gloves that blinded her with their whiteness. Stock still._

_“…Jane Shepard was given this honour because of her service, her bravery…” Liara had objected vehemently but had been overruled. Had not been married, bonded, anything other than—_ other than her everything _, she thought bitterly. Every fiber in her being cried out at the flag draped over the wooden box; the sharp salutes; the drums and trumpets and-_

_“Jane Shepard was-“_

_“-and”_

_“Selfless”_

_“Loving”_

_“Tough and moral…”_

_“She made the ultimate sacrifice, like those who came before her and devoted their lives to service. Shepard may have left the Alliance, but the best of the Alliance was carried in her…”_

_“She showed us the heroic acts even civilians are capable of; the greatness that lives in us all. She was brave-” Liara had lowered her head then,_ brave. She _was_ brave. She was mine, but- _weeping; the widow, after all._

_Weeping because she was dead, still. On a slab and gone from her. Gone from her life, memorialized here for all to see, but somewhere- somewhere Miranda was trying to bring her back. Miranda, who squeezed her shoulder from behind her chair, like she knew her thoughts._

_Officially she was dead. Physically she was dead. This grave would mark the end of the incredible, unkillable-killable, wonderful, funny and smart, strong Jane Shepard._ I lived, and I died, and here I am. Here I rest.

_Except she wasn’t…_

_But, still, Liara felt wrong about it all. The effacing of her memory. More staccato drums, more lilting trumpet cries, lamenting her Jane. Was fitting; really. It was noble and powerful, stalwart; like her. Rifles ready; old rifles, relics set aside for this purpose alone nowadays. A step back; a shouldered weapon; a slide in place; all in unison – a terrible noise: a wonderful noise. So much ceremony for her. Would it have made her proud?_

_Ready._

_Aim._

_…_

_She closed her eyes against the sound and tried to be strong._

_Salutes her way._

_Flag folded._

Till the day you die…

_She didn’t hear what the solider said to her as he knelt, handed her the flag. Didn’t care. Nothing mattered except Shepard. Not this token, not the salute. Nothing. She was the only thing that mattered…_

Shared it all with her, aloud and in a meld when her voice choked and her eyes blurred, clutched the edge of the table with white knuckles. Liara looked over at her in this moment – another moment seared into the collection of moments that made them _them_ – and ran her hands along the swell of her daughter; Jane’s daughter. Thought back to the stranger named Shepard that had captured her heart, who was now here, _her Jane; hand running nervously over the back of her neck, that red hair tousled and unruly:_ “I’m Shepard, err-Jane, Shepard…”

From a stumbling, nervous meeting in the most unlikely of places, to here: it hardly seemed possible they had come so far. Loved her so.

_Visited the mock grave when the rain fell from the sky and in her heart. Black umbrella keeping her tendrils dry as she stared down at the white stone with its macabre lettering:_

_JANE_

_DIANE_

_SHEPARD_

_PVT. 2 ND CL_

_SYSTEMS ALLIANCE MARINE CORPS_

_APRIL 11, 2154_

_DEC 22, –_ Liara ran her hand along the death date, closing her eyes

_BELOVED BY MANY_

_SHE DIED SO OTHERS MAY LIVE_

 

_The umbrella did little to keep her cheeks dry, as tears fell onto the soft ground; grass grown in and tall, blue flowers placed lovingly._

Liara looked up; saw a stunned, bare look of hollow sorrow on Jane’s face, the images still swimming in their now separate minds.

“I-“

Shepard didn’t speak, just took her hand gently in her own and led her across the hall to their bed, stripping them both of clothing and the memories. Liara lay on her back and she’s massive, just huge, but Jane doesn’t care, props her up with pillows and runs her hands down her legs, along her feet, across her stomach. Her breasts are tender, but it feels strangely nice – so nice – for Shepard to cup them, rub them gently. It’s not rough, or rushed. It’s a slow, burning passion; gentle and careful and lazy – Liara swears she can hear the drums and trumpets in her head. Swelling strings and stoic military motifs. Shepard moves over her, behind her, touching her, kissing her everywhere she can; she’s barely touched her most intimates parts but it doesn’t matter, Liara is blooming for her; throbbing and silken and she’s never felt more feminine than now; instead of undesirable she feels like a goddess; woman perfected, and Jane is so turned on by the way she has to slide down on her back on the soft sheets, hands tracing the silky texture, opening up, petaling and ready; the baby so there, real: the fruit of all this. All the love. All the heartache. Everything. They way she squirms and moans, unable to really move at all, unable to shift positions. Shepard ran her tongue along the dark blue line that split her stomach now in these late days, and down, dipping in to that secret place.

Has never felt love like this before; the burning need to show her, slowly, softly. Just for her. Had gone through so much with her; no: for her; because of her. A gentle tongue, tasting her very essence, a gently sucking making her cry out and push into her mouth for more; can’t quite reach over her belly to the red hair she wants to pull; fists the sheets instead. And when she enters her it’s an explosion of bright light and - slowly, slowly – gently rocking hips and feather thrusts - and when she comes her orgasm is so perfect and drawn out and cresting she barely makes a sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Absolutely did NOT write the lyrics; the copyright for this great tune is as follows
> 
> John Williams  
> Geffens © 1998 SKG Music L.L.C.


	14. Interlude

Now another summer was blooming slowly on Serrice, like the one that had cruelly blossomed during those dark times: all pale leaves and perfumed air, sharp shafts of light off glinting windows. That was just fine with Liara, who reveled in the warm clime: not blisteringly hot yet, nor cold enough for the extra layers that made her feel even bigger. She had thought it had been impossible to get any larger, but she had been wrong. At least once a day her father blew out a long whistle at her, asking if ‘she was carrying an entire Commando unit in there?’ She was beginning to wonder herself; just how much of Jane’s height their daughter had inherited. On dark nights, when sleep was hard to find - with Lana’s sharp limbs and frantic punches and kicks pressing insistently into her bladder, her kidneys, her stomach – the image of a some kind of krogan-human-asari hybrid would keep her awake. She never admitted these aloud, even to Jane. Didn’t need the teasing or the ‘that’s not how it works,’ even if they were paired with a quick wink and a kiss.

She sighed and tried to roll over. Heard her father’s snores from the guest room down the hall. She rubbed her belly and wondered if her mother was awake. They often crossed paths in the kitchen, late at night, sharing a cup of tea and a snack, speaking of Lana, of Shepard, of the nursery, what they still needed to purchase, where the birth would be. Never of John, or Omega; or what had happened to her. These midnight crossings told Liara enough about how her mother was feeling; dark purple circles under her eyes, quiet, honest, open conversations about her own pregnancy, her life...

That told her enough.

_Benezia and Aethyta had arrived with hastily packed bags, all bluish blurs and loud cursing. Liara opened the door, a frizzy ball of wrung hands and shallow breaths. Her father pushed her way in, sidestepping the enormous being that was her daughter with a suitcase in each flexed hand. “Your Mom’s alright, kiddo,” she dropped them with a thump. “Holy hell, you’re huge.”_

_Liara rolled her eyes but smiled, “Thanks, Dad…” Aethyta cocked one hip out and surveyed her,_

_“You bitchy yet? Took every ounce of self-control not to warp everyone I met when your sister was due…” Liara opened her mouth to reply with a snarky comment but the irony wasn’t lost; shut it with a snap. Shrugged._

_Aethyta grinned and nodded, knowingly. “You are my kid, after all, huh?” She turned in a circle, “where’s the human? I need to give her a few good tips on being a father-“_

_“Father…” Liara called after her retreating form, “leave Shepard alone, she’s… stressed.”_

_“Fucking stressed… I’ll show her stressed…”_

_“Little Wing,” Benezia came up behind Liara with barely a whisper, entering the front hallway with flowing skirts. Liara turned and choked back a sob, rushing at her mother with open arms. There was slight roundness to her shoulders that Liara had never seen before, but the beaming smile and coolness in her eyes was familiar. She embraced her daughter quickly before standing her at arm’s length, “Oh, Liara…”_

_Liara’s mouth twitched into a smile, self-conscious and so young. She unconsciously cupped her middle and Benezia placed both her hands over her granddaughter, through her daughter’s thin skin, and despite closed eyes Liara knew she was opening a meld._

_“Mother…”_

_“She’s strong,” Benezia opened her eyes, where they faded back to icy blue._

_“She gets that from her father… and her grandmother…” Liara was swept into a strong hug, a low moan in her mother’s throat making her heart pinch._

_“I love you very much, Liara. I know I did not always…” She drew back, gazing at the floor._

Who is this timid woman? _Liara thought, her mouth dry._

 

Liara rose and cracked the door open an inch, casting a look back at Shepard, who slept on. She saw the light in the living room dancing; a vid was murmuring softly, its strange blue light reaching out to her like a beacon. She stopped in the kitchen for water before spying her mother on the couch, curled up with a book, the console obviously on for company and nothing more. “Mother,” Benezia looked up, startled, but smiled.

“Liara,” she patted the seat next to her and Liara joined her. “I barely slept with you, you know.” Liara laughed soundlessly, a single rise of her ever-largening chest.

“I simply cannot get comfortable, and when I do a minute later I have to run for the washroom.” Benezia closed her book and nodded, placing a hand on her daughter’s leg.

“She will be here soon-“ _and then you will know what it is to have no sleep,_ she thought with a silent smile. Didn’t need to scare her yet, “and she will be surrounded by love and light.” Liara dipped her head; these conversations – open and honest as they were – were still new territory. “I loved you the minute I knew you existed, Liara-I-“ she looked away and Liara stared at the vid: an old asari dramatic classic; all high collared dresses and seascapes. “I knew the moment I woke that we had made you. I never once regretted that decision, Little Wing.” Liara swallowed hard-

“But, Dad – she, uh-told me about…”

“The affair? Yes. Well,” Benezia seemed lost for words and sighed, “I loved her, even when I thought I did not. Even when I pushed her away.” Benezia tucked her legs up under her and Liara suddenly saw her as a young maiden; as her father must have so long ago. The soft light from the television melted her age away and the beauty left behind struck Liara; she had always assumed her mother’s magnificence came from sagacity, from the years she had put behind her. She was wrong; Benezia was stunning. “It is much more likely that Aethyta will leave me than I ever would her, Liara...” She trailed off, a heavy point in that. “That I would drive her to it-“ her shoulders rose and fell, “I am not always easy to live with, Little Wing.” Liara laughed, but placed her hand over her mouth. “But, yes, the affair. I believe I hurt her quite deeply and, well, your father is a woman of _needs_. Of-“ she paused, choosing her words carefully, “of certain tastes and emotional short fallings as well…”

 

Liara blushed, “I believe I know the type;” thought to her bondmate, soundly asleep down the hall. “I forgave Jane as well… how could I not? When I was the one…” Locked eyes with her mother, “well, you know.”

Benezia nodded; she did indeed. “Aethyta wasn’t a very good mother; she was not ready for it, and she’s made no secret over the fact that she detested being pregnant, but she was – _is_ – an excellent father.” Benezia tapped her fingers on her stomach, “and, well, then there you were. Our gift from the Goddess; our little scholar: our pride and joy- I believe you healed her; saved her from herself. From me. “ She picked up her wine glass and sipped, “you were an incredibly easy pregnancy, Liara, and a wonderful child. We could not have asked for better. I used to sing to you, imagined you listening…” She got lost in that thought; a hundred-year-old memory. They both smiled, unknown to the other. “You loved the park near our home, loved the dirt and mud and the other children… You only became shy much later in life…” _perhaps if I hadn’t held back- if I had-_

“Even your birth was… well, it was birth…” She seemed to get lost again;

 

_The large master bedroom in Armali, a dull ache pulling her from sleep-_

_-Aethyta, eyes wide, never before hearing sounds like that coming from her tolerant and imperial asari-_

_“-get me to the doctor now,_ Thee _-Aethyta, please…”_

_-rushing, rushing; doubled over in a hallway, in a hospital, in a bed-_

_“Aethyta-“_

_-clammy and damp; a head crowning, a soft, malleable crest there now; tears of pain, of joy._

_-“I-I cannot-I-“_

_Screaming, pushing, trembling legs-_

_-“once more Matriarch; once more-“_

_a fluttering, twittering cry; like bird song, like spring._

_“she’s here, Nezzie. She’s here. She’s-goddamn; goddamn she’s beautiful.” A tiny blue bundle in large purple arms. Soft lips and cheeks pressed to breasts, trying to find her way back home; back to her mother._

 

“I am afraid, Mother,” Liara squeaked, ashamed; weakness was not shown to Benezia T’Soni; not the Benezia of old anyway. “I am afraid it will hurt; that it will tear me apart, emotionally, physically… I am scared.”

“Do not be, Liara. It will hurt. It will be the hardest thing you ever do; harder than loosing Jane, harder than us – what we have- well… but then, it will bring with it the greatest joy you will ever know. The most important title you will ever wear.” She squeezed her hand, blue on blue, fingers interlaced, wedding rings glinting in the dim light. “But do not be afraid.” Liara shifted her position and draped herself over her mother’s lap, letting her cradle her head and run her fingers along her scalp.

Benezia closed her eyes, “You do not yet know the privilege of being a mother, Liara. There is power in creation; to shape a life. Turn it towards happiness or despair; tell her you love her, Little Wing. Tell her every day you love her more than the earth and sky- Do not-“

“Mother-“

“Do not make my mistakes…”

“Mother-“ Knew her brush with death had changed her somehow.

“-No, I suppose you won’t; you do have a lot of your father in you despite it all…”

“I love you, Mother.”

“I love you as well, Liara.”

 

***

 

Benezia knocked softy on the doorframe and Shepard looked up from her model.

“Matriarch.”

Benezia smiled. “Jane, when are you going to call me Benezia?”

Shepard smiled back, but thought: _when my kid calls you grandma, not a moment sooner._ She shrugged. “Would you like to sit?” Gestured to the chair across from her.

Benezia nodded, “please.” She took stock of her daughter-in-law’s strange hobby, picking up a small Alliance frigate and holding it up to the light. Jane beamed. She set it down and let out a breath, “I have only asked you this once before. I hope I will never have to say it again...”

She didn’t have to. Shepard straightened her spine.

“I will, ma'am...”

“Jane... He's your brother.”

“You’re my family. He is not.”

Benezia nodded, bit at her lip. Shepard was struck by just how much she looked like Liara in that moment. “Then find him and kill him.” _For what he did to me. For what I know he had planned…_

“Yes ma'am, I intend to.” 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit just got dark. Aria just got a lot more Aria. Shepard's all fucked up. But guess what? Didn't kill any blue babies, so there's your #spoiler ;)
> 
> Made some tweaks to this after going live: he just didn't feel right being so flippant and angry. I believe a rapist-for-hire would be weak and snivelling once the tables were turned. So, it's been updated a little.

“The plan?”

“Kick them out.” Aria stubbed out her cigarette and leaned against the wall, taking a moment to gaze into her home where Liselle played happily on the floor and Thea sat at the island, buried in a pile of discs and datapads. Shepard leaned on the deck railing, her ankles crossed behind her; looked over her shoulder to spy Aria picking her teeth as she stared at her ass. She straightened up and turned around, her hands behind her.

“What about the mercenaries?” Aria shrugged and joined her, hoisting herself up onto the railing and crossing her legs.

“The fuckers won’t back me. Not that their little _fleets_ would do much against the force your brother has on his side.” She spit over the railing and Shepard watched it fall. “Cerberus, Shepard. Fucking Cerberus…” Jane sighed and pinched her nose; Aria gritted her teeth: reminded her too much of Tevos. Of what was at stake.

“I feared-“

“-fuck fear,” Aria interrupted, “The Blood Pack will join us on the ground if need be, I know that. They love a good fight. But the Blue Suns and Eclipse are too busy trying to fuck each other up to take me seriously. None of them take me seriously,” she added, almost as an afterthought; jumped down, almost seething; almost a fire under her ass. Yet…

Aria threw a soccer ball at Liselle as she headed inside; the girl caught it deftly with a surge of biotics.

“No biotics in the house,” Tevos chimed from the table; didn’t miss a beat.

“Go outside and play,” Aria ordered, patting her on the backside as she scampered by.

“Can Shepard come?”

“No, I need her.”

“Bray?” Aria glared; softened.

“No. I need him too. Find some friends your own age,” kissed her crest lightly. “Maybe Shepard will play with you after. You can teach her how to finally be good at something.” Liselle giggled and obeyed her father, tossing the ball against the wall of the house as she went.

“So,” Shepard slouched on the couch where Bray had been doing his best Captain of the Guard impression. Ever mindful, ever watching over the Princess T’Loak. “Any other intel?” He perked up at Jane’s question. His deep voice cut through the now quiet house,

“Their army is massive; he’s got Omega locked tight. The information stops there.” Jane sighed,

“So, we’re winging it.”

“Not at all, Shepard.” She sneered her shark grin. “Not at all.”

 

Shepard stared down into her mug, eyes glazing over as she watched the steam rise from the coffee. Tiny flecks of grinds swirled as she brought it slowly up to her mouth, not tasting it. Could actually feel the bags under her eyes, divots dark and dragging her down. The hum of the engines lulled her into a false sense of time as the Normandy hummed along at FTL speeds among the stars; her head ached, pounding and heavy like the air was bad. She desperately wanted to be next to Liara, warm and safe and loved. There was tightness in her face, like rubber bands.

 

Aria had put on quite the show.

_“Let me do the talking, Shep,” she had practically skipped into the hangar bay, the door hissing closed behind them, pressure pad going red and secure. Bray turned at their arrival, stepped out of the way, and Jane had caught her first glimpse of the man in the chair. He was shackled in, his head drooping to his chest. Stripped of armour and most of his clothing she could already see several heavy-handed bruises along his chest, ribs, back. Aria smacked the back of his head as she passed, “Wake the fuck up.” She pulled second chair across the floor; the legs wailed like poorly oiled gears. The asari flipped it around and straddled it backwards in one movement, Jane taking her spot at her left shoulder, arms crossed over her chest. Purple forearms leaned over the back of the chair, her own wrists crossed;_ no big deal. Just a chat, big guy. _Like rebellious teenagers; smoking in the girl’s room._

_Bray stood by the door, indemnity against interruptions. As it was the shipping containers and crates carved them out a neat little alcove._

_The man in the chair raised his head as Aria snapped her fingers under his nose. “I said wake the fuck up. You do not want to miss this part.” She boxed him around his ear and he let out a muffled groan; Aria tilted her head to one side and made a noise of sympathy. “Oh, I’m sorry, did that hurt?” Her face was passive; gentle even. Shepard’s was blank with hardness. Bray had assured her this was the right man._ Him _. Surprised he hadn’t died from Aethyta’s knock to the head._

“Two birds, one stone, Shepard. That’s your expression, right?” Aria had hissed, dragging a finger along her shoulder.

 _Now, Jane could see the tendons sticking out in her arms; trying to reign in her excitement._ “Violence gets me wet, Shepard…” _She was quivering with anticipation; her own Cimmerian shade. The promise of blood that would spill onto her boots before the end of the night._

_Jane felt goosebumps rise on her own arms; ghosts in her ribs, banging around and trying to get free. Fed off Aria’s excitement. Fed off the promise of punishment. The longer Aria sat, just staring, the worse – or better – it became._

_“Well, who do we have here?” He stayed silent. “I asked you a question;” kind, almost; matronly._

_“Let me go; I'll never touch an asari again, I swear-" Without his helmet his voice was high-pitched; soft almost. Terrified. "I've had enough of your kind-“ Aria ‘tutted’ a disappointed noise and shook her head – stood and walked to him with familiar swaying hips._

_“Oh, but you see, you didn’t, did you? Not nearly as much-" Aria ran her hand between her own legs, throwing her head back and sighing suggestively, "as your boss promised.” She pulled a knife from the back of her pants and slunk into his lap, one leg over either thigh, pelvis close to his; heeled boots turned out on the floor like a dancer in second position. She leaned in close and brought the gleaming knife to his cheek, rubbing the flat side of the blade against his stubble; she rocked her hips back and forth as she did, mimicking the motion. “You like asari?” She leaned back quickly, pushing breasts into his face before standing again. He moaned and let out a long breath; Shepard did as well. Hadn’t realized she had been holding it. Hadn’t realized she was burning. This dance of ferocity was Aria’s anchor to her soul still._

_It made her sick._

_It made her wet._

_She flicked her jacket off her shoulders and placed it on crate; Shepard wished she had been the one to remove it. With her teeth. Was sure Aria wanted to feel the sticky blood flow onto her skin._

_Aria returned to her post, slithering back into his lap and running her hands up along his pectoral muscles, his shoulders, his biceps – careful to keep the knife away from his skin. She brought her face near his and Jane was sure he would be smell her now: soot and embers; solder. Death. She slid herself back and forth over his cock, grinding into him before laughing as he tried to raise his hands to her hips; locked in solid. “Ah-ah-ah; don’t touch,” she licked her lips, inches from his. Jane clenched her hands into fists._

_Aria ran her finger tips along his chest again, along his nipples; ran them down, down, down, and grabbed him through the fabric of his briefs; wrapped her fingers around the girth of him where he was hardening. She brought the tip of knife down too; close enough for him to feel the cold steel and he froze; “I thought you got off on violence? No?” She stood abruptly again and slashed out with the weapon, leaving a fine red line along the right side of his chest. He cried out in surprise as it began to bead red droplets. Aria used his lapse in attention to grab each arm of the chair and bend into his face, “not so appealing from the other side is it?” She raised her brow markings and looked down at his erection, “or maybe it is?” She sank to her knees and brought her lips close to the tent of fabric. “You would love it if I wrapped my mouth around you, wouldn’t you? If you knew how wet and hot-“ She moaned and Jane clenched, “-I am right now… just waiting for you to fill me…” Rose to her full standing height and pinched his ear. He groaned, unbelieving. Aria grabbed him again and worked her hand up and down, over the fabric, and he made a strangled sort of plea, rigid and eyes closed. She squeezed, too hard, and he yelped; she relented and went back to her torturously slow movements, bringing her knife to his skin again, dragging the point along as she teased him through his shorts. He didn’t know if he should cry or come. False confidence; as if this was really all a game. As if Aria didn’t have bigger plans for him. She crawled onto him again, the length of him fitting squarely against the seam of her pants. She held the knife to his throat but continued the wicked dance with her hips, stroking, rocking, tempting; he tried to rock his hips up but his thighs could only move so much with the chains, Aria’s weight; the knife at his pulse point. She leaned in and whispered into his ear, something Shepard couldn’t hear, but could guess. She saw his eyes roll back and Jane had an idea it had more to do with Aria’s ministrations than blood loss. “Oh, you’re so close, aren’t you?” She stuck her hand between their bodies, his hardness still cloaked in fabric. He unconsciously nodded, pricking his neck with the knife; hard enough that he hissed; a single drop of blood there like a shaving wound. She began to truly rock against him, with some semblance of enjoyment – one that Shepard hoped was feigned – and he tried to reach for her again. She stopped, suddenly, and sat back; knew exactly how far to push him; she laughed and swiped the blade across his cheek._

_He whimpered,_

_“Please-I-I wasn't going to touch her-“ Aria laughed and dragged the knife down his chest again. She hummed at him and stepped back to survey her work. Dropped the knife to the ground with a clatter._

_“When we’re done here you’ll never be capable of touching anyone ever again,” she breathed. She sauntered to Shepard, who stood looking over her head, stalk-still and straight; grabbed her face and caressed it with the back of her fingers. Lovingly. Jane let her turn her face from side to side, not breaking eye contact with him. Aria slid her tongue along her cheek, her ear. Nodded to her. Jane drew her pistol and lined it up between his legs, just waiting for the order. His eyes had glazed over, watching the asari fondle her; he noticed her gun too late and made a inhibited noise; the implication made him jump, rocking against the restraints, pulling desperately on them._

_“Wait, wait-“ Jane flicked her safety off and he paled. "You don't know what they're like - kill me and Cerberus will have your head-“ she laughed, stepping closer to him again._

_“You think I’m afraid of Cerberus? I’ve got news for you, human: I’m Aria T’Loak. I’m not afraid of anything. This isn’t my first-Shepard?”_

_“Rodeo,” she filled in, still staring at him._

_“Rodeo. I should suck you off just so you can have one story worth sharing: how you fucked the Queen of Omega.” Shepard’s jaw went rigid. Her sidearm stayed rigid. "Send you back to Cerberus singing my praises. With my scent all over you..." traced the outline of him with feather-light touches._

_Aria flicked the knife off the floor and at him with her biotics, and it spun, stuck out from just under his collarbone; “except you’re not worth it.” He screamed profanities at her and writhed in the chair as she climbed into his space, using the knife as leverage to pull herself closer; hoisted herself into his lap like she was climbing the rigging of a ship. The knife scraped bone. “What’s his game?”_

_“Leave me alone-please-I-“ she nodded back at Shepard who shot him in the side of the head, mangling his ear – blood splashing back onto Aria; pooling beneath him._

_“What. Does. He. Want?” He shook in the chair, unable to grasp at his wound. Aria nodded again and Jane put a bullet in his foot. He shivered, terribly, his cries of pain low and bovine. “No?” Aria grabbed the handle of the knife and twisted, pulled; extracted it just to slam it down into his hand, twisting there too. Tendons and bones crunched and snapped like kindling. The reservoir of blood under the chair continued to grow; it dripped down his neck, his chest, across his lap, staining his shorts, his legs; pooled down his arms and dripped off fingers._

_Another shot to his calf; shattered tibia, fibula, shredding muscle._

_Aria burned with the fury Shepard had craved; ablaze with white-hot rapture. She was horrendous; callous and repulsive. Wanted her so much it hurt. In the scores of things Aria T’Loak was to different people – lover, ruler, father, bondmate, friend; fiend. Scourge. This was Shepard’s secret addiction. Her drug. Her favourite._

_Thea had to know: from the meld, from Aria’s own mouth - she knew; but Jane had_ seen _it. Been part of it. Made love to it. Groveled at its feet for a chance to worship it one more time; just one more time. Her brain screamed with an unfathomable need for it; it was her Gospel. Her blood tinged by it. This banshee doyenne, this demon woman was hers and hers alone. They lurked together in the darkness._

_She yanked the knife out of his mangled hand and ‘tutted’ again, held the knife against his cheek where he sobbed into the metal. She put it to his now soft member; he had lapsed into incoherent stammering:_

_“I-I-don’t know-“_

_“One more time, Michael –“ he started at the use of his given name. “I’m giving you one more chance…”_

_“Afterlife-He’s in Afterlife- he has blockades, mecs, soldiers-“ She sunk the knife into the cord of muscle next to his neck and he gurgled;_

_“_ I know _he’s in Afterlife.” Aria shook her head, disapproving. Disappointed. A teacher, a parent, a mentor let down. She wiped her knife on his leg, cleaning it of his blood before making her way back to her own chair, leaning against it now. “What does he want? Who does he work for?”_

_“I don’t know-“ he was crying now, sobbing. “I-don’t-I’m just a soldier.”_

_“I don’t believe you. I think you’re lying to me…” She held her hand back to Shepard, who passed over her gun without question. She tossed it from hand to hand, gauging it and him; he was slick with blood now. She slammed the butt of the gun into his nose and black eyes bloomed almost instantly._

_“I’m not-I swear. I’m-“ she withdrew and he sighed, let out a relieved breath that was thick with the blood that had seeped into his mouth._

_Forgot about her knife._

_She impaled his penis with it; his shrieks inhuman. Crumbling brick. He began to slur, desperate and teetering on the edge of his own sanity._

_She got into his face, bringing his chin up so he looked her in the eye; rotating her knife with her other hand._

_“Do you think we’d let you walk out of here after Benezia?” She twisted harder, the knife embedded in the chair. Her hands and arms were shining with his blood. “Did you think you’d take her in her own kitchen? Defile her? Make her beg? Kill her?” As he began to pass out Aria latched onto him with her mind, eyes black and swirling. Shepard stood at her post, sentinel-still and steely eyed; as Aria raped him in her own way: she was not gentle as she lashed at cortex and ransacked his mind, leaving him wrecked and empty; scorching the earth. Shepard watched as she leaned back and off of him, letting out an almost orgasmic noise as her eyes faded back to violet and her breathing returned to something akin to normal, her blood-splattered and bare shoulders rising and falling like they used to after they had made love. She pulled her knife out and tucked it into her pants and motioned to Bray, who joined them again. “Clean it up.” On her way out she stopped, “if he lives let him go. He’ll wish he hadn’t.”_

_Shepard immediately stalked by her, slamming her shoulder into Aria’s as she passed. Aria let out a long, low, laugh. Hummed her approval at the rise she had gotten out of her._

_Did about a hundred crunches and bench presses and pushups before she came down._

Despite all the things she had seen in her life - had done - in the Alliance, in the Reds - it wasn’t his anguished moans that bounced around her head; it was Aria’s noises, actions; the way she had palmed him and he had gotten hard for her. She stared through the glass partition, not really seeing the models hung within; stared at her bunk with it’s lush blankets and soft pillows – saw Aria, writhing under her. Grabbing _her_ and making _her_ harden and swell. She had never had her on the Normandy but she could see it all plain as day. Didn’t want to.

Wanted to more than anything.

To get lost in that fantasy of blood and desire and terror and cruelty.

_She awoke too early – after stumbling into bed next to her pregnant wife, dripping water from her hasty shower onto the sheets; had scrubbed the tiny particles of blood off of her skin – Thea’s call pulling her from a fitful slumber. She answered quickly; afraid Liara would wake to the buzzing and orange glow._

Had wanted her for a meeting.

Now she was on her way to the Citadel.

 

***

 

Shepard sat in the winding hallway on a hard plastic chair, her hands between her knees, dangling and limp. She looked over to the glass windows, to the potted plants that gave the area life. She sighed and rubbed one eyelid, checking the time on her Omni-tool again.

The carpet under her feet was plush, with snaking patterns of green and gold. She must be bored to notice. She read the nameplate on the door: Cnc. T. Tevos: reminded her a little of her old office door on Serrice.

She glanced at the guards on either side of Tevos’ office door, who were chatting about nothing in particular. Abruptly the door hissed open and Shepard rose, surprised to see Aria emerge, clasping her corset and pulling on her gloves. One guard smirked, the other looked at his feet.

“Shepard.”

“Aria?” Jane looked past her to a disheveled Thea. She opened her mouth to say something – to demand explanation as to why she was here, on the Citadel of all places, when preparations were to be made, resources were to be gathered – but Aria trailed a still-bare hand along Shepard’s forearm; images swam in her head, vibrant and sonorous:

_-Breasts – familiar in their shape and size – bare, where a corset had been undone, nipples pressed into a lithe purple back, spine and shoulder blades decorated with swirling white markings;_

_Aria's strong legs; kicking feet apart, curved calves shaking, keeping long legs spread with powerful thighs;_

_Lips on those markings, a tongue tracing them down a swan neck. Tiny, delicate whimpers, cries kept in by the biting of cheeks;_

_Tevos, dress unzipped and open in the back, tucked up into the band of Aria's pants, face resting on the polished surface of her desk; rocking into the desk, fingers scrambling for purchase, for something to hang onto;_

_Fingers sliding in and out, in and out, occasionally brushing against a spot that was all consuming; didn't stay there long. Wouldn't give her release, not with the breathless sounds that escaped her parted lips; not yet._

_All clinging velvet;_

_Words like velvet against her ear; "Do you like that,_ Councillor _? Am I going to make you come not ten feet from where you sign the galaxies secrets away? Will the hundreds of people in this tower hear you as you scream my name?"_

_"Goddess, yes... I-"_

_"Who?"_

_"Aria-_ Aria _, yes.”_

 _Aria fumbling with her fly, freeing her growing faux erection, sliding it up and down Thea’s lips, her arousal; trembling at the renewed contact; “Please..." at her mercy._ Begging.

_Stroking her; filling her completely with one thrust. Holding her steady with bruising fingers digging into supple hips._

_Filling her with long, hard strokes that rocked the sturdy desk; with strokes that made her cry out louder, and louder; made her heels slip across the tiled floor, forcing Aria to truly hold her fast, pumping into her without restraint;_

_Beautiful cries tumbling from her mouth as she found the spot that drove her to the edge; reaching for it again, and again, with vigor._

_Bodies stiffening where her pelvis met her, riding out waves of pleasure with small, trembling shakes. Bites to shoulder blades and fingernails dug into stain as the angle was just right and Aria exploded with a growling cry-_

All sound and fury in Shepard head; signifying much. _Goddamn asari melding bullsh-_

Her eyes traveled to the bulge in Aria's pants. She had come prepared. The asari winked and continued on her way, taking claim to the hall as she did, head high and hips daring anyone to stop her. 

“Aria-“ Shepard clenched her teeth when she got no response; _Jesus, Aria- why are you doing this to me?_ Wanted to sucker punch her. She stepped into the office without waiting for an invite. “You wanted to see me?”

 

 

***

 

“A Spectre?” They sat by the large windows, in matching chairs, sipping matching drinks; Shepard ignoring Thea’s wrinkled dress.

“You’ll have free reign to go where you see fit…” Jane nodded, it clicking into place:

“Like Omega?”

The corners of Tevos’ lips turned up: _perhaps._ “Where you go while conducting Council business is not the Alliance’s priority to know. It is only partially the Council’s. We trust you. To help us. To help people.” _People like my bondmate._ “Go to Omega. Bring down Cerberus if you can while you’re there,” she snorted.

Shepard sipped her drink and looked out at the tangle of passing traffic; the wards, with their twinkling lights even in the day, even from here; at two krogan standing by the Presidium lake.

“It’s personal for you, isn’t it?” She asked, eyes returning to Thea, “not Aria, but Cerberus, I mean.” Thea sighed,

“I do wonder why Irissa sided with a pro-human splinter group…” She followed Jane’s previous gaze, standing and placing a hand on the window,

“They use people, Thea. Obviously. Look at my brother.” She crunched a piece of ice. “I don’t think Cerberus cares about John, not really. Or Irissa. I think they just want whatevery they’re focused on. Right now: Omega; and, judging by their relentlessness, me. Irissa probably just wanted more clout or something…”

“I feel a little sorry for her, Shepard,” Tevos turned back to her and refilled her own drink; Jane waved her offer away. “She was younger than me, but we never got along… Still, she was my sister – at some point in our lives that mattered.”

“I know…”

“Yes. I believe you do,” she sat again, crossing her legs under her dress.

“My brother was never the same after my parents died,” Shepard mused, “he died alongside them in my opinion; or on Torfan. Who knows?” She put her glass down, “we could have faced it all together.” Thea put her hand on her arm,

“I know. I could have had a sister, in more than blood.”

 

 

***

 

Shepard stepped up to the staging area, palms sweating despite her outward coolness. The turian councilor – Sparatus she believed Thea had warned – was clearly berating her to little avail:

“…or it could trigger a war with the Terminus Systems! We won’t be dragged into a galactic confrontation over rumors.”

“-as we made quite clear before you were elected, Tevos,” Valern threw in. Thea pinched the bridge of her nose,

“The taking of Omega is no rumor, councilors, and very clearly connected to the misgivings of the old councilor. Besides, do you really relish the thought of Aria T’Loak spending any more time on the Citadel than she already has?” Valern and Sparatus looked at each other from their places on her respective sides, “Regardless, councillors, we have discussed this enough. Our decision is already made.”

Shepard cleared her throat, made herself known.

“-there is another solution. One that does not require fleets or armies.”

They all nodded in agreement and opened their consoles. Thea locked eyes and Jane saw what drew Aria to her in the first place: regality, power, class. Wisdom. “Commander Shepard, step forward.” She did as she was told, gulping and feeling like she had failed to pass in her homework. _Damn, Aria; I get it._ “It is the decision of the Council that you be granted all powers and privileges of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance branch of the Citadel. Spectres are not trained, but chosen: individuals forged in the fire of service and battle. Those whose actions elevate them above the rank and file.” She seemed to be staring right into Jane’s soul; Shepard didn’t think she fit the bill at all. “Spectres are an ideal, a symbol: the embodiment of courage, determination, and self-reliance. They are the right hand of the council, instruments of our will. Spectres bear a great burden. They are protectors of galactic peace – both our first and last line of defense. The safety of the galaxy is theirs to uphold.” Thea smiled. “You are the first human Spectre, Commander;” _I knew you would be_ , her eyes said. “It is a great accomplishment for you and your entire species.”

Shepard did a little half bow, awkward as ever. “I am honoured, Councilor.”

“This meeting of the Council is adjourned,” Tevos disconnected her terminal and nodded down at Jane as her counterparts departed.

 _Go get him,_ her eyes said.

 

 

***

 

Shepard came down the staircase with a lilt in her step; Liara had watched the ceremony from Thea’s terminal – she should have known – and Jane had received several congratulatory and decidedly inappropriate messages directly following. Explained some of Thea’s smirks from the podium. Aria was in a less than ideal mood. Jane stopped just short of the nightclub’s VIP lounge, observing.

She had her right leg crossed over her left thigh, hands calmly resting in her lap, but Shepard could read her even from her place on the bottom step. A straight-laced woman in a dress was standing a respective distance away, but was chastising her none-the-less.

“So you admit you and your thugs are here illegally.”

“Yes. And it only took C-Sec how long to figure it out?”

“I don’t care who you are – or who you’re with – “ the immigration officer turned her eyes to Shepard’s emerging form. “You’re required to go through processing like everyone else. Come with me,” she turned and made to leave; as if Aria would follow. As if Aria was some common goon. Aria leaned forward, slightly - imperceptivity almost – still didn’t acknowledge Shepard.

“I don’t think so.” She narrowed her eyes and slung an arm over the back of the couch, “Shepard, get me the asari councilor.” Deadly eyes - predator’s eyes; the eyes of a ruling monarch. The thud of the music spurred her on and Shepard stepped forward, opening her Omni-tool. The officer crossed her arms in front of her chest and rolled her eyes, mouthed: “bullshit.”

A full-sized hologram of Thea popped up, her back to Jane, her eyes all over her bondmate:

“Aria. Is there something you need?”

Aria spoke to her like she was speaking to child; Shepard knew she was directing the tone at the poor immigration official who was technically just doing her job. A job Shepard had just sworn to uphold. Tired tone. Weary.

“I’m being asked to submit to immigration processing.”

Did Jane see Tevos smile a little?

“Of course you are.” Reached forward and flicked something off, or on, she didn’t know. “Done. What else can I do for you?” Did Shepard catch that loaded statement; especially after what she had just witnessed in her office. Burned.

Did the officer?

Aria gave her _the_ look. That same look Jane knew so well: intentional, hard-broiled and almost rumbling with promises.

“Nothing. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” _I’m sure it was, Thea._ Tevos winked out and Aria turned her attention back to the poor woman. Jane still kept her distance.

“I think we’re done here.” Aria waved her away, beckoned Shepard forward.

“Enjoy the show, Shepard?” Another loaded statement; was full of them today. Could still see the swell in her pants. She sat.

“I guess there’s one rule on the Citadel, huh?” Aria didn’t look at her.

“I guess so.”

“Except you just broke it…” Jane felt a blush creep up her neck; wanted to throttle her and kiss her in the same moment. _How dare you-flaunt it-how dare-_

“I hate this place. So sickeningly uptight. Anything I can do to change that – to challenge that – I will.” She noticed Shepard noticing her; ran her hand along the toy in her pants: “I could go again, Shepard…” She scoffed at Jane’s stare; “like I said: Uptight.”

Jane glowered at her.

“Can we just-“ she rubbed the back of her neck, “what do you want me to do? You must know about my little promotion by now…”

“There’s been a complication,” Aria spoke, all dripping and oil haze, swirling her drink, gilded tongued not betraying how serious she was.

“On Omega, I kept the Blood Pack, Blue Suns, and Eclipse in check. Now, they’re running amok. Nobody wants that.” Aria offered her the bottle by her feet, tipping her head to it. Shepard ignored it.

“You couldn’t get them to listen-“

“I don’t need them to listen to me; I have a Spectre… to make sure they point their guns at Cerberus. So, once you help me with my little merc problem we’re going to punch through enemy lines and invade. Once we’re on Omega, it’s a ground war.”

Shepard sat and turned her body to face her. “The Blue Suns leader is incognito here on the Citadel – he’ll be expecting you. He’s a twisted little criminal; his demands may be unreasonable. He may be a pushover. I’ll let you be the judge.” Jane nodded and rose; Aria continued: “On second thought, talk to the Blood Pack too: incase they decide they don’t care which side they fight on. Narl is my agent who’s dealing with them.” She sent his contact over via her Omni-tool.

Jane put her hands on her hips, “and why exactly am I your errand girl, Aria? Cause I won’t fuck you anymore?”

“Because I have better shit to do, Shepard” – the fucking or the errands Jane didn’t know – “and seeing as you won't let me use your precious ship-“ Still, she went a dark plum colour.

“-the Alliance will strip me of my rank...” She trailed off, something clicking in her brain; a brain she began to suspect wasn’t worth the money-back guarantee the Alliance had promised. Aria raised her brows and pointed at her.

“Very good, Shepard.”

She sat again; sunk down more like. “The Alliance. You want the mercs to know you‘ve got friends in high places without it seeming like-“

“- like I’m licking their boots? Yes. Like I said: very good. Now do it.” She squeezed her leg; Jane had sat closer than before without realizing.

 

And she had done it.

Because… When the Pirate Queen beckoned... Well, you had no choice but to obey.

Because her unborn child’s life was counting on it; because her wife was in danger as long as her brother lived.

She hadn't let her dank and swirling contempt for John dissipate. Every time she looked at Liara and her mother, side by side at the breakfast bar, strolling up the aisle of a grocery store, seated on the couch watching a loud vid with Aethyta, she remembered what was at stake. Who was. Had taken every bit of her self-control to keep her feet planet side and not rush headlong to Omega to wrap her fingers around his neck. 

 

 

***

 

Playing hostage with the Blood Pack vorcha was one thing; this guy made her skin crawl. She had slid into the booth across from him in Chora’s Den and ordered a drink, expecting it to be a long drawn out process:

 

“Wow, Aria wasn’t kidding – the great Commander Shepard on a leash.”

Jane barely kept her hands from wrapping around his throat. Darner Vosque, his head shining even in the dim bar lighting, was slime. 

“I’m here for my own reasons, Vosque;” _like my own brother, you fucking idiot._

“Sure you are,” Jane felt a kind of gratitude to Aria for obviously not letting this shithead onto the secrets of John. “Anyway, tell her I’m impressed, but to do business I still need my little problem taken care of.” Shepard sipped her drink, surveyed him over her armored gloves.

“Which is?”

“Turian general named Oraka has it out for the Blue Suns. He’s raising a stink over our activity in this sector; we’re just making little raids along trading routes, with Aria’s blessing, I might add.” _Of course…_ “I’ll commit my gang to Aria as soon as Oraka’s dead.”

“You seriously think I’ll assassinate a turian general?” Jane laughed and sucked the last of her drink through her straw, making a terrible noise on the bottom of the glass.

“You two work it out,” he raised his hand for a refill “Oh, and… tell Aria I still expect her blue ass in bed with me.” Something went red in her brain; too many innuendos, too much for her to handle in her… _delicate_ state. Shepard shot forward, over the table, and grabbed him around the collar.

“Listen here, you piece of shit, I will not be assassinating anyone for anyone: not you, not Aria, no one. You help Aria out of the goodness of your heart, out of concern for Omega, a personal favour for me.” She squeezed a little. He coughed, nodded, and Jane dropped him. “Good. Now go, get the fuck out of here and mobilize…. And Vosque?”

He dropped out of the booth and onto his knees before slinking away; turning his eyes back at his name. “Her ass is _purple_.” She raised an eyebrow; couldn’t help showing off her prowess, where she had succeeded and he had failed. “Her _azure_ is purple. You racist son-of-a-bitch.”

 

***

 

She found Aria where she had left her.

“Look who’s here: took you long enough considering the only damn reason they wouldn't work with me in the first place is your moral leanings...” She stared straight ahead; still drinking. Still sitting there with her cleavage and her attitude and her- Shepard lost it.

“What is your problem?” She yelled, not sitting this time. “I was taken hostage by a rather rough Batarian and almost fed to a vorcha with power issues for you. I had to wander around with the image of you and that grease ball-“ she made a noise of disgust. “I left my pregnant wife back home for you. What more do you want?” She dropped her sidearm on the couch and unclipped her chest plate, frowning at her as she removed her armor. Sick of the weight of it. Or the weight of Aria – the weight between them – she didn’t know.

“I want you to trust me, Shepard,” was all Aria said.

Jane stared for a moment, chewing the scenery. Opened her mouth to simply snap it closed again. “Besides, he's your brother,” she added, flippant, before pouring Jane a drink she hadn’t asked for.

“It's your fucking rock...” Took the drink.

“Damn right it is. And I'm going to pry it from his cold, dead fingers.”

They sat in silence for a while, watching the club move around them.

“He expected me to kill General Oraka.”

“Who?”

“Vosque.”

“Who cares what Vosque wants? You took care of that. If he hadn’t listened to reason, well… I would have had to take care of it…” She left whose fate she was discussing up for debate.

Shepard grumbled, “I don’t see the distinction.”

“The distinction is that I gave you the chance to save his life; but I needed Vosque to see you; to realize who he was dealing with. Plus, if I have to suffer that scumbag staring at my tits one more time, I might have to kill him.” Jane rubbed the back of her neck, going red and hot. At least Aria tolerated her staring at her tits. She had that going for her still.

“Yah- he mentioned…” Shepard raised an eyebrow.

Aria scoffed, “That I’m going to sleep with him? We all have our delusions.” She snuck a glance at her, all fidgeting digits and freckles. “Jealous, Shepard? You needn't be. ‘ _We don't do that anymore_ ,’ remember?” She ran a wicked finger along her collarbone but her tone was cold. “Besides, I can do better than Darner Vosque.”

She sipped her drink. They both did.

“The Blood Pack and the Blue Suns are in my pocket, but I've got one more task for you; one I will be joining you on. The Eclipse have been problematic; I suspect they’re partially responsible for Cerberus taking over my station like the vermin they are. I believe Jona Sederis is working against me.”

Shepard's face stayed passive. “We're going to pay her a little visit. Show her what happens when you cross Aria.”

A beat.

“I think I’m going to employ violence.”

 

 

***

 

Shepard loitered outside the building smoking, one ankle crossed in front of the other as she leaned against the steel wall. Mercs in yellow or black armour, mostly Asari maidens she noticed, scurried around like mice, casting her wary looks. When Aria T'Loak sent someone knocking they let them loiter. With ample room. 

Jane wondered what secrets they were sharing; what files they were expunging as she waited for Aria, who was late as usual.

A skycar landed in the clearing between buildings, narrowly avoiding two shipping containers marked with the elongated ‘E’ that branded them as Eclipse property. Looked a little like Aria’s symbol; Omega’s symbol… Jane thought Aria might have actually been onto something with her pet theory about Sederis.

One heavy heeled boot emerged from the opening door, then the other, as Bray rushed around from the driver’s side and offered Aria his hand. She exited like the queen she was, stubbing out her own cigarette and casting a glance to Shepard. She strode through the metal doors and Jane fell into stride behind her; no looks of recognition between them. 

 

_“Here, wear this.” She had tossed a set of battered red merc armour at her feet and Jane kicked it with her boot. “You're my lackey, Shep. Ditch the N7 and act like you know how to kill someone.”_

 

So she followed, casting withering looks at the maidens, one hand on her pistol. 

 

“Aria. How nice to see you again. I heard you got married,” it came out as a sneer. “Come in; bring your new plaything with you. Does the wife know, I wonder?”

 

Shepard played vanguard, standing a respectable distance away; knew she would be called upon before the convening was ended.

Jona Sederis was a psychopath. Jane knew that within ten minutes; all: “heads will roll, oh yes,” and “I have all the power.” Knew it was bullshit. She was alone in the room with Aria and herself: that told Shepard everything she needed to know about the discontent within the Eclipse. Aria had accepted a stiff drink and a cigar and sat with her boots on Jona’s desk, viewing paperwork and profit earnings: protection money or legitimate business Jane didn’t know; didn’t care. When the drink was down to dregs and the cigar burned to ash Aria threw a datapad across the surface of the desk and spoke around the end of her Batarian stogie.

“Your usefulness is at an end, Jona.”

“Now, where have I heard that before?” Sederis raised her brow and put a finger to her lips; sucked on one suggestively. Shepard bristled.

Sederis put her glass down and laughed.

Aria tapped the desk with manicured nails. “I don't stomach traitors, and Cerberus had an in somewhere...”

Sederis didn't look shocked. Neither asari moved. Aria had learned if you kept silent people usually filled the empty air; usually hanged themselves.

“You deserved to be thrown off that throne you built on the backs of people like me,” Jona finally spoke. People you threw aside when something more lucrative-“ she shot a look to Shepard – “more appealing, came along. You deserve every minute you have to spend stuck on this station, on Thessia. Oh yes, I know-“

“-you know nothing.” Aria replied, weary. She stood, giving Jane a tap with two fingers. _Do it._

Aria turned her back to them and Shepard stepped forward.

“Ah, I see. Aria’s indentured servant has come to deliver me to freedom.”

Shepard stepped ever closer, over her there sitting at the desk that would become her very own potter’s field; forgotten, unloved. Hated. She spoke again, and Jane was surprised that no fear came off her; she really was unhinged. “You'll never satisfy her, you know. I didn't. That bitch of a councillor she has won’t. You won't. She's insatiable and cruel.”

“Maybe to you,” Shepard replied, tonelessly.

“Tell me she isn't to you and I'll kill myself, save you the trouble.” She barked out a laugh that made Shepard’s skin crawl. “She isn't playing you like a violin? Using her tits to rile you up?” Shepard felt her eyebrows draw together. “Thought so.”

Shepard took one step closer, unsheathing her knife.

“She used to beg for it from me. Practically mewl; let me do all sorts of disgusting and sadistic things to that body- ‘please Jona; please-‘ ‘Fuck me harder, Jona-‘ ‘suck my clit-Jona-‘ ”

Shepard slit her throat without a second thought. Carved it open and watched her lifeblood leak onto her boots. Wiped her bloodstained hand on her pants as she gurgled and clutched at her neck wound. For the second time Jane was sure Aria was going to lick it off her palm.

Didn’t deny what Sederis had confided. In fact there was glint in her violet eyes.

“Now, we’re all systems go. Let’s get my station back.”


	16. Interlude

Liara let Jane hold the door open for her and practically waddled in, waving to Aethyta as the skycar pulled away. They had convinced her that that was as far as she was to go; _no, Dad, I believe it is more important for Shepard to be there; no, of course I want you to be a part of her- she’s her father- okay, well yes, you may drop us off –_

Jane drummed her hands on her thighs, looking around the brightly lit and brightly painted room, with it’s fetal development charts, large rocking chairs, breast feeding positions; Jane had never been more grateful for what life had handed her: a built-in circumvention of pregnancy. She had never pictured herself pregnant; not once. There were no urges to carry a life and hold it to her breast. Yes, she realized now she had simply had a hard time reconciling her sexuality and what that meant for her reproductive adventures, but it didn’t change the fact that she was not cut out for the torture on her body, nor built with the bred-in-bone urge to create a life.

Logically she knew that if she had married a human she could have ended up in the same scenario, but this – God - Lana would actually have her traits. The idea that Liara had dug around in the very depths of who she was and created a being with the qualities, features, and mannerisms she loved most.

Felt about ten feet tall.

Would maybe even have her eyes.

“Thank God for asari,” she mumbled; Liara ‘hmmmed?’ at her and she simply shook her head: _nothing_.

Liara flushed a deeper blue as the rest of the class looked up from their positions on the floor, in the chairs, on tiny ottomans. Asari of every shade and age smiled demurely, their various partners looking as shell-shocked as Jane did; there was a turian man turning an anatomically correct asari doll over in his hands – he looked puzzled at the plastic mammal; a turian woman, harsh featured but lovely, who held her bondmate around the waist as they pointed to various stages of growth hanging on the wall; a few asari-asari pairings who Liara smiled particularly hard at; several humans looking as far out of their depth as Shepard felt; and a single batarian man – clearly progressive - who reminded her of Bray. There were also several lone asari and Jane had to remind herself that was not out of the ordinary; partners died earlier, were picked simply for their genetics, left after a single encounter; had no idea these beautiful aliens had taken anything at all. She didn’t judge.

Shepard helped Liara into an empty rocking chair and took her cardigan – hot, cold; hot, cold; chilly-freezing; sweats: she couldn’t keep up with her wife’s body temperature any more. Just packed one of everything now when they left the house. A lovely pink and blue matriarch came through the door with a clipboard in hand, smiling at the group and opening the shades, letting the summer light in.

“Hello everyone, welcome. Goddess, we do have a large class this time, don’t we?” She beamed around the room and Shepard couldn’t help beam right back; put her at ease. “I’m Matriarch Delnetia, - or Nurse Delnetia – or Della if you’re feeling friendly; I don’t mind,” she clasped the turian woman’s hand as she passed, smiling. “Don’t be nervous, love – it’s your first, isn’t it? I can always tell.” The turian nodded, smiling back against her will. “I’ll be honest here,” she perched on the window sill and took the doll from the turian father-to-be, “you’re all nervous.’ The class murmured their agreement. “Good. That means you’ll be good parents. Alright, let’s go around the circle with some introductions-“

 

***

 

Shepard held a pamphlet up to her face, resisting the urge to turn it upside down and make a joke. The badly-drawn baby was the least of her worries: the dilation diagrams made her clammy and ill; trying to erase the image of her wife’s nether regions distending; getting so… wide…

“It’s gonna hurt, ladies. There’s no getting away from that –“ Shepard raised her speckled arm and Liara groaned, put her hand over her face. “Yes, Jane?”

From across the room one half of the Batarian-asari partnership elbowed the other:  
“It _is_ her; I told you.”

“Quiet,” his bondmate shushed him.

Jane smiled awkwardly, “Uh, isn’t there, like, an epidural, or…?” She trailed off and squeezed Liara’s leg; she was sitting on the ground next to her rocking chair, cupping the back of her blue calf with one hand.

_“I don’t want drugs, Shepard. I want to feel her being born-“_

_“-honey, let’s be real, okay? You’re gonna need drugs…”_

_“The issue is closed, Jane.”_

_“But what if you beg me real hard? How am I supposed to deny you?”  
“Do not trust anything I say when I am in labour. Simple as that.” _

_“But honey-“_

_“-case closed, Shepard.”_

 

Della put her clipboard down and sighed, “unfortunately, no. Our abilities are also our downfall: unlike the human nervous system the asari spinal column is too complex – runs with too many nerves – to allow for an epidural analogy. Oh, there are drugs, of course, but they do leave the mother quite, uh – well – stoned.” Several fathers laughed, “There are simple pain killers, but that’s like putting a band aid on a bullet wound, and in the case of surgery full measures will be taken, but if you ladies want to be aware of what’s going on you’re gonna have to feel it… all of it.”

Liara looked on smugly. Jane shrugged.

“Alright then.”

 

The Matriarch moved on, bringing up a holo that showed a small asari, swaddled and black-eyed. “Your daughter will be naturally melded with you for the first few years of life; it varies from child to child, but expect about two years. Until they really reach that toddler stage. I know you all know that already – that they already are - but this is really for the Dads, alright?” She looked to them all, “this doesn’t mean she won’t let you know exactly what she wants when she wants it. Just like any infant, it will take you some time to know what that is: how to read her cries and expressions. Momma will know better, but don’t leave it up to her, Dads. That is a recipe for divorce. Or murder.”

They all laughed and Shepard snuck a kiss onto Liara’s leg. “But once baby joins us out here in the world she’s going to loose some of that innate melding ability; she won’t know how to control it or how to direct it as well as she does now, guided by Mom’s nervous system; so, Moms, keep that in mind and do not feel like a failure when you’re floundering too.” She smiled at their pale faces. She clapped her hands together, loudly, “alright; moving on. Breast feeding:”

 

***

 

Shepard hadn’t known – couldn’t know – how many different ways there were to insert a breast into a mouth. In hindsight she probably should have known, being as gay as she was… Shook that thought away.

Realized in that moment that her wife’s breasts were to become her daughter’s favourite thing in little over a month; that they would probably be off-limits and not-to-be-sexualized for quite some time.

She sighed.

Liara gave her a sweetly quizzical look and she shook her head: _nothing_.

 

…That pelvic floor muscles had a job outside keeping a strapless in. Other than to squeeze her tightly when…

 _Ah jeeze… I’m a terrible woman,_ she thought; so many things about her own body she had assumed were there for enjoyment only. She locked eyes with the turian man who shrugged back at her, his eyes screaming out all the fears she was experiencing. _Good luck, buddy,_ she thought. _I’m no closer to understanding it and I’m a mammal. Have a uterus and a vagina and the whole shebang…_

 

That cervixes dilated…

Dilation… effacement:

“10 centimeters: that’s how big it’s gonna get before you can push-“ Shepard held her hands up, fingers making a circle; trying to guesstimate just how large that was – just how much _stretching_ would occur.

Took a second, startled look at her estimation; _Oh boy…_ fought the urge to go green.

When your water breaks. Labour. Delivery. When are you heading to the hospital? Too early, too late? Does it hurt? – “Sure does, ladies-“

Will you need surgery?

What surgery? – “We may have to give you an episiotomy-“

Shepard raised her hand again, “what’s that?”

Liara cut in, hushed voice: “They may have to make an incision… in my, uh, in me…” Jane looked at her with a blank stare. “…If the baby is having trouble after she crowns…”

It clicked: “Oh God… you mean? Oh _God_.” The battlefield was starting to look a lot better than the birthing room.

“Shepard…”

 

What happens in labour? How long will it last? What does it feel like?

Is that a contraction? –“if you can talk through it’s not; not really. You’re all going to be real annoyed with them-“ pointed at all the partners, “happens without fail. _Then_ it’s the real deal” - What will Dad do during labour?

Did the baby drop?

Is she ever going to drop?

Is she _ever_ going to come out?

 

3 cm, 4 cm, 7 cm, 10? - “It’s gonna be intense, but you can do it. You’re made to do it. Built to do it.” – Rocking, rocking, pushing – “if you’re hungry, eat lightly; don’t eat anything you don’t want to see again on the way up” – Don’t bring too many bags with you. Don’t bring too many people with you; not at first – “tell that to my father-in-law”

“Shepard-“

 

 _Why hadn’t she done more reading? Why hadn’t she prepared more?_ Putting together a crib and picking out a name seemed so important at the time; hadn’t thought about all of this. Just assumed Liara would just, well, _just_ _have a baby_.

_Why did we decide to do this?!_

 

“You’re going to get several vaginal exams, but trust me, you won’t mind. You’ll be showing off your bits to anyone who pops by by the end of it. You’ll be showing them off a lot.”

Jane turned her own doll around in her arms; realized she was squeezing it nervously and without thought.

_I’m going to kill my own daughter… I’m going to drop her or squeeze her or forget to feed her or-_

 

“…and then you’ll deliver the placenta-“ Della pointed to the holo; rather realistic, really…

“That’s gross…” Jane blurted out.

Liara looked scandalized. “- _Shepard!”_

“Sorry. But it is.”

“I should have brought my father…”

  

***

 

Jane sat on the couch next to Liara, flipping through a thick book with flowery borders; a beautiful blue asari sitting in a rocking chair holding a too-perfect blue baby in her arms. Should have picked it up months ago.

She felt like she was living a double life: planning an invasion whilst being completely unprepared for the tiny invader on her doorstep. Learning nursery songs by day and opening throats by night. She caught Aethyta’s eye, who laughed and went back to her vid; saw the fear all over her face.

Her Omni-tool went off and she looked down at her wrist:

_The fleets are ready. We have to go._

She sighed and typed back:

_Be at the dock in 20._

***

 

“Now?” Liara had followed her down the hall; found her imputing the code to her weapons and armour locker. She leaned on the bedframe, setting the pregnancy books down on the duvet with soft movements.

“Now.” Jane looked over at her, unsure what else to say. Liara sighed and walked to her, placed a hot hand on her cheek.

“How long?”

“Not sure,” she leaned into her palm.

“Shepard, I know this is important, but-“

“I’ll be back,” Liara took her around the waist and nodded. Shepard placed one hand on each side of her stomach; looking into her eyes and then down to her navel, jaw flexing so hard her ears moved up and down. Spoke mostly to her mid-region: “I’ll be back.” Liara placed a kiss on her forehead, where she had bent slightly while addressing Lana.

“I am not having this baby alone, Shepard. I am not. I am not doing this without you.” _I am not raising her without you._

 _I’m doing this for_ you _. For_ her _._

Jane grinned her sideways grin: the cat who ate the canary. “Well, that gives me all the more reason to get back here on the double…”

Liara let out a watery laugh and clutched her around the neck, “Be safe.” Pressed her lips to her, softly; passed along every silent prayer.

“Always.”


	17. Chapter 17

“So, what do you think?” Aria stood, gazing up at the hulking ship, one heel kicked up onto the ramp, arms folded in front of her chest. Shepard followed her eyes and took it in: not as sleek as the Normandy, flying different colors; sporting more obvious guns.

“Uh… you’ve commandeered a Cerberus cruiser… where did you find it?” Jane tapped on the lower side of the hull, hearing a hollow, muted, bang from within.

“You really want to know?” Aria returned her gaze to Shepard, armored and loaded up with firepower.

“No. I guess not.”

“Good,” she began to walk away, grabbing a datapad that was handed to her by a salarian in Blue Suns getup. Shepard followed on her heels as Aria made her rounds, surveying cargo bins and groups of mercs, “the Blood Pack have committed 2,000 vorcha to the cause. They’ll make up the bulk of the ground army. Vosque still thinks he’s going to be getting me on my back – idiot – but he’s committed his veteran pilots to me, thanks to the little song and dance I had you perform. We got a ton of mecs and elite troopers for stealth, pre-invasion reconnaissance - from the Eclipse; you surprised me by taking such agency in that matter.” Jane squeezed between two krogan that Aria had shoved apart.

“Alright, well, there’s still the matter of actually getting onto the station… and that –“ she threw her thumb over her shoulder at the massive ship – “bag of bolts-“

Aria stopped and Shepard almost collided with her,

“It'll get us in, trust me.” It looked like a sleeping leviathan, about as star-worthy as an elcor. “Trust me.” Aria shoved the datapad at a passing vorcha, who hissed at her and continued on his way. “Meet me up top; we’re getting my station back. Do me the favour of checking out the crew; ask some questions, make sure they’re not shooting blanks. The vacuum left by Sederis’ untimely passing of leadership is rife with rumblings.” She sauntered up the shuttle bay ramp with the kind of slither Shepard remembered from their college days; from their first meeting. Aria was burning within, a fire that had been stoked for months until it was white-hot. Jane was very glad she wasn’t to be on the receiving end of that ire. Wasn’t the target of the evidently nuclear air strike that would be the retribution of T’Loak. She let out a large blow of breath and spun on her heels, unsure where to begin.

 

***

 

“Who owns this?” Shepard’s voice sent a shockwave out over the bustling port; she had a rifle in one hand, red and white stripes and N7 marking it as not only Alliance standard issue, but as coveted special ops gear. _Stolen,_ she thought, fuming, _or taken as a trophy…_ She had been rifling through a weapons crate when she found it, recognizing it as her firearm of choice, almost identical the one on her back: Valkyrie model, modded barrel, no scope, thermal clip enhancement. “I said,” she turned in a slow circle, watching alien and human alike for signs of weakness; fluttering, skittering, guilt, “who owns this weapon?” Her comm crackled to life and Aria’s voice flooded her ears,

“Shepard, I asked you to check in on my troops, not shit all over them – what are you screaming about; I can hear you from the bridge.“

“It’s mine, ma’am.” A tap on her shoulder made her forget all about Aria’s question.

“Vega?”

“Lola!” She stared at him blankly for a second before shoving the rifle into his chest,

“Nothing, Aria. Shepard out.” She heard Aria sigh and huff in frustration over the line before it went quiet.

“Jesus, Vega!” He was decked out in beat-up armor, a touch too small, but other than that he looked the same as he always had; ham fisted and ginormous. She wrapped him in a bear hug, patting his platted back with a _clank_.

“Last time I saw you they were lowering you into the ground, viejo.” Vega stepped back and looked at her, “I heard that was all bullshit, but Lola… dios…”

“Nice to see you too, Vega-“

“Oh, shit!” He hastily saluted, “you outrank me, don’t you?” Shepard laughed, leaning with her hip cocked out, raising an eyebrow,

“Yah, speaking of – nice gun…” James blushed and looked down at the weapon in his hands; closed it up and stuck it on his back.

“Shep, I-“

“Hey, Vega, whatever – I assumed someone had stolen it; got a little hot under the collar. You earned it. What the fuck are you doing here?” Vega swung his legs over a crate and dangled them as he sat, crossing his arms to match Jane’s nonchalant pose.

“Mercing; couldn’t stand waiting around to get called back to ICT, and I wasn’t getting posted anywhere anytime soon, so… here I am?”

“Vega, man, it’s been a long time…”

“Tell me about it, Shepard. I heard you got married and had a kid?”

“About to have a kid-” She gulped, rubbed her neck; James laughed.

“With Doc? Never saw that lasting…” He dodged her swipe. Just like old times. “Nah, I’m kidding, Lola: good job; hot stuff.” Shepard snorted and joined him on the crate.

“Vega, don’t waste your skills on this mess – let me and Aria take care of this-“

“-again, nice catch,” he winked and Shepard went scarlet.

_Did everyone know?_

“Is there like some galactic gossip column centred around my sex life?” James shrugged at her and Jane showed him her favourite rude gesture- _Wait… Williams._ It hit her… _and Williams was sleeping with James and James..._ she shook her head “-listen, I have my own ship; they’ve made it clear they won’t refuse any of my crew requests, so…” She trailed off and shrugged. James was speechless for a moment; a rarity.

“Really? Lola-Shepard-“

“Really. Get outta here before you get yourself blown up on some asteroid and you’re no good to me,” she slapped his thigh, “honestly, get the fuck out of here and get in contact with Ashley Williams-“

“Oh ho- I remember Williams-“ She gave him an ‘ _I’m sure you do’_ look and jumped down, keying codes into her Omni-tool.

“She’ll make sure I sent over the right forms for Anderson; stop by and see Liara. I’m sure she’d love to see you. Jesus, Vega. It’s good to see you.”

“You too, Lola. Man, you too.”

 

***

 

“Well, the guest of honour has arrived. We can finally start…” the door hissed closed behind Jane as she approached the bridge; Aria was already tapping her foot, half-heartedly listening to the holo in front of her: an asari lieutenant with fear all over her face. Shepard gave her a look but left her alone.

_They had made the final preparations alone and Shepard had spent it below deck, ensuring her gear was oiled and in fighting shape. Her departure from Serrice had been rapid and rushed, and she had been less concerned with her equipment and more concerned with leaving before Liara convinced her otherwise._

 

 _She had propped herself up against a cargo box and closed her eyes as the ship came to life and lifted off, boomed through the troposphere – Liara,_ is she lonely? Is she in labour? Will she ever forgive me for all the herendous things I do _\- and stratosphere – Lana,_ will she like me? Will I live long enough to see her grow? _\- and mesosphere – Aria,_ I hate her. I love her. I always will. She’ll be the death of me… _\- and thermosphere – John,_ how had it all gone so wrong? Why didn’t he love me enough to stick around? Do I hate him enough to kill him… can I really do it? _\- into space, seeking out the nearest relay. Closed her eyes and thought of how she had gotten herself into this. How she had become Commander Shepard when all she had wanted was to study Galactic History._

 

“We’re out shipped four to one…” Aria’s soldier spoke as Shepard leaned against a console; it beeped at her alarmingly and she gave it a quick look. Made sure she hadn’t brought the ship down around them or fired any guns.

“We’re not here to win a space battle Jarral,” Aria pressed her fingers into her forehead and sighed at the captain. “We just have to punch through their line.”

Jane leaned up and off her perch,

“So, we’re infiltrating the enemy fleet?”

Aria nodded and brought up an image of Omega on the holo, the captain disappearing into nothingness. Not that Aria was ever going to listen to her anyway.

“Exactly. We position ourselves to strike a crippling blow…” She looked over at Jane with a smirk on her lips, but murder in her eyes. Jane opened her mouth to speak but Aria held up her hand, “The assault’s been planned for weeks, Shepard. For now, just…” she looked her up and down; Jane was familiar with the particular brand of expression she wore; the bedroom eyes that meant she was in control tonight and there was no questioning - no relief - until she got what she wanted… “Sit back and let me steer.” Dripping with memories. With inference.

Aria stalked over to Bray, who was at the helm, with the same commanding presence: a Queen in all her glory; flippant shoulder shrugs and bold movements. She took a moment to gaze out at the stars; Shepard stayed where she was. The further away from Aria she kept herself right now, the better.  
“Bray, move through the relay. Signal the fleet to wait. They only follow on my command,” Aria leaned over him as they made the jump, the universe speeding by in a blue blur; soon Omega’s all-encompassing red glow filled their view and Jane saw Aria exhale – features painted red by her station. Jane took a moment to look down at her out of the corner of her eye: the tendons were sticking out of her arms at the wrist; nails white where they dug into the seat back, but she moved away after a minute, running her hand along the CIC railing; Shepard took a spot near the captain’s chair instead, changing spots with Aria like a dancer; avoiding her aura at all costs. “Head for the command ship,” Aria’s voice low and lean spurred on a flurry of activity, the crew beginning to fly in earnest.

As they drifted slowly closer, Shepard squinted into the void and counted: vessels identical to theirs were floating silently, surrounding Omega, nestled in the asteroid field.

“Not as many as I expected.” Aria didn’t acknowledge her; only had eyes for Omega.

The asteroid-station was broken, porous and anomalous crumbling coral-pock-marked jailhouse walls. Lit up with an inner glow, spilling fire into space, it both cautioned intruders from approach and attracted prey into its sphere. Deviant. Defiant. Stimulating, terrible, repulsive.

It was Aria.

A crackling voice broke the tension as much as the silence;

“Cruiser, I don’t have you on the flight plan. Identify yourself.” The air was silent for a moment, only the shifting of Shepard’s armor, as she sat next to Bray, and the grating technical beeps and static answering the hail. The batarian pushed a number of buttons and looked up at Aria; a recording filled the silence: _‘this is Captain Lentz. Run voice recognition alpha, tango, zed. We took damage. Seeking repairs.’_ The man’s voice was weary; it was dejected and low; it was without hope.

They waited.

“Identity confirmed, Captain. Hold for approach authorization.” A dozen sets of shoulders lowered in relief.

Aria closed her eyes, half-moon pinched. She looked over at Shepard, who held her gaze.

“How did you get the captain to say that?” She regretted it the moment it left her lips; _a knife, held tightly in her hand, blood dripping and wet._

“The hard way.” Aria looked straight ahead.

_Aria’s hips rocking against the prisoner in the chair, before slicing him open; Aria’s deep purple skin shining with a veneer of red blood._

The ship passed into the asteroids, steady, and silent, like water cutting through a desert. Aria leaned over her shoulder; a front row seat. Jane could smell the eezo coming from her pores, the faint, light, iron scent she carried; some kind of spice – a smell she associated with dark moments and mind-bending, circuit blowing sex. She closed her eyes against it and shifted in her seat. Her voice in her ear, low and hard:

“That’s right. Nice and slow.”

_“…I can see you’re drawn to me, Shepard, but it makes you uncomfortable…”_

Gunpowder and nutmeg.

 _“Touch me, Jane. Fuck me…”_ Steel and cinnamon.

Felt leather against her neck where Aria brushed it as she spoke.

_“…Look at me… don’t stop, don’t you dare stop--“_

She flared her nostrils and clenched her jaw tight.

The ship seemed to collectively hold their breath.

“Fire!” Aria commanded, breaking the tension with a snarl. Jane, who had been lost in their past, flinched and felt herself throb.

The whole galaxy seemed to jump into action as the largest Cerberus ship burst into flames almost immediately. They had no warning, no time to fire back; the main gun of Aria’s newly acquired plaything rattled her ear drums and Aria barked again: “Signal the fleet through the relay!” Shepard watched the ship in front of them break along the hull and crack; bright and hot against the vast darkness of space. She heard the confirmation comms in her earpiece as a dozen or more ships came through the Mass Relay; briefly saw flashes of white light and cannon fire to the aft. Aria leaned on Bray’s chair, pleased with herself; “We’re through. Head straight for the station.” Bray kept the ship on course and Shepard stood, clapping Aria on the back. The console in front of the batarian lit up and he turned back to his boss,

“We’re being hailed by the station.”

She looked at Jane; Jane nodded.

“Should be interesting. Put him through.” They turned back to the CIC just as a fuzzy facsimile of John Shepard materialized.

 

***

 

Aethyta pressed the play command again. She had watched the vid – in all its crisp cruelness – a dozen times as she got drunker and drunker, the volume low. Her nose was barely a millimeter from the screen, leaned over the datapad with her Scotch in her left hand, threatening to spill.

The glass was righted as she gripped it tightly, letting out a slow noise: relief, excitement; pure, horrific joy.

 

_She had opened the message in the quiet of a sunny afternoon. Liara was off napping, Benezia called away on some domestic errand; it was just her and her tipple. And the vid, of course. She had opened the email without a second glance; without a second thought. Knew Jane’s purple-assed bitch ex would be contacting her for one thing and one thing only: retaliation._

TO: [REDACTED]

FROM: A. T’LOAK

SUBJECT: You’re welcome

 

I believe we share the gift of the world seeing us as unflappable; never the less… if it had been Thea – or Shepard… well, let’s just say I’d want revenge.

\- Aria

_There had been a post script:_

I would say you owe me, but I enjoyed myself.

 

_Aethyta knew better than to share this with anyone. This was for her and her alone. So she had waited._

 

She used her free hand to rewind the vid, playing it in a loop. Watched again and again as Aria brought the knife down again and again; watched the blood pour and the asari bitch playing out the most deserved justice – in her eyes anyway. All while her steely faced and hemmed in daughter-in-law stood at guard, ready to strike. T’Loak never gave her the chance.

Watched as Aria ran her hands along Shepard’s jaw; her shoulders, her collarbone and chest plate; the Matriarch didn’t need to be in the room to feel the tension between them. To see the air pop and crackle with their electricity. To see the look of pained restraint on Jane’s face as Aria practically dry fucked the poor kid in the chair. Wasn’t sure how she felt about all that; wasn’t sure she could have been as strong as Shepard, who not once cracked under Aria’s spell.

She would have been helpless to that kind of eroticism; the heavy, swirling, bass that was Aria turned up and ready to take what she deemed was hers. _Kid is all right,_ she thought, taking a sip. _Then again: their every interaction isn’t filmed…_ Finished her drink at that thought and poured another. _Trust Liara,_ she heard Benezia in her head, _she knows Jane better than we do; and she would not tolerate infidelity again._

Restarted the vid again and sighed.

 _Fucker… should have killed him. My Nezzy… my fucking bond-_ she heard the floor of the hallway squeak-

 

***

 

 

Liara threw her leg out and tried to hook it around Jane; she grunted when she rolled back over, remembering in her drowsy-state that she could, in fact, no longer sleep in that position; Lana made it impossible. She grumbled in her sleep and reached across the bed, patting an expanse of mattress instead of her bondmate’s inviting, sleepy form. She began to wake for real, the sun shining in the window and onto her face, warm and golden; the perfect afternoon nap light. Hadn’t meant to fall asleep; hadn’t realized. She mumbled and rubbed her eyes, that same afternoon sunshine thick like molasses on her eyelids. What she had thought was Shepard was the pile of laundry she had been dealing with. _Shepard is heading to - on already on - Omega and I snuck a nap while folding clothes;_ _that's right,_ she thought, remembering trying to fling her thigh over the pile in some semblance of her missing wife.

She opened her eyes and put her feet on the ground, favouring tea over chores. She was officially off work now, had all the time in the world for tea; hadn't had too much yet today, could sneak another cup in. She waddled down the hallway holding her stomach and bladder while she put the kettle on – not seeing her father at the table - dashing back to the restroom and sighing in relief; the tinkling echoed around the empty house. She heard a throaty chuckle from the kitchen and her name, called out in a thick, unused voice:

“Liara?” Her father croaked. _How did I miss her? I thought she went out with Mother…_

“Dad?” Liara rounded the corner again as her father hastily shut down whatever vid had been playing; she had time to glimpse a gruesome scene of gore staring Aria T’Loak and Jane Shepard; ghastly and crimson. She gasped quietly – hopefully low enough for her father not to hear - and turned back to the kettle, avoiding acknowledgement. _Was that? Were they…?_

Aethyta cleared her throat and shut off the datapad.

“So you're up, sleeping Beauty?” Liara tried to smile as she made her tea, drawing the process out longer than normal – as long as possible – before turning back and sitting across from her father.

She sipped as they sat in silence, Aethyta swirling her drink around her glass. “Heard from Shepard?” She finally asked, running her finger around the edge of it now; a nervous tick she had picked up from Shepard it seemed. Liara sighed and rubbed her stomach as she took another drink. She placed her cup on the table and stretched out her back as best she could before answering.

“No. I am not sure I will, to be perfectly honest,” _I’m not sure I want to,_ she thought, coolly. _Whatever her and Aria have to do to make us safe is… perhaps it is better I do not._ She echoed this thought aloud, “perhaps it is better I do not…” Aethyta looked up, quickly – sharply – but her features relaxed after a moment.

“So, I wasn’t as careful as I thought, huh, kid?” She went to pour more Scotch into her glass but Liara put her hand over it, taking her father’s in her own.

“When she leaves I worry. I worry myself into a tizzy: ‘Where is she?’ ‘What is she doing?’ ‘Is she hurt? Is she hurting someone else?’ So I have learned to let it go. Let her go and fight for what is right, and be in danger and-“ her voice hitched a tad and she cleared her throat, “-and ensure that that danger stays far away from us.” She rubbed Lana again and felt her move, a tiny foot or fist pushing up against the paper-thin skin.

“Until it finds us anyway,” Aethyta replied. Liara couldn’t help but notice the jaded tone.

“What else am I to do, Dad?” Liara shrugged, looking out of the large window; searching the sky as if it would produce Shepard for her on command.

Aethyta patted her hand and smiled; there was no joy in it, no answers. Just a look of knowing.

“I don't know, kid. I almost lost your mother once... I have no answers. If you weren't knocked up I’d pour you a drink.”

“Tea is fine Dad,”

She knocked back the remainder of her whiskey but didn’t refill it. “That crazy human may be the best thing that's happened to us… or the worst,”

That's how she feels, anyway.

This time her smile lit up her whole face and Liara saw what her mother must have fell in love with all those years ago.

“Are we going to talk about that vid, Dad?”

“Nope.”

“But, was that-?”

“-Nope-“

Liara went quiet for a long time; they both sat, hands still touching; three generations connected by love, and emotion, and muscle and bone.

“I won’t tell Mother.”

Aethyta looked down into her empty glass and nodded; Liara saw a tear fall into the cup and licked her lips, biting down on the bottom one. She hadn’t seen her father cry in… _ever?_

“Thank you, kid.”

 

***

 

“Aria, I knew this had to be you; you’ll never make it.” John crossed his arms; Shepard mimicked the gesture – out of habit or familial bond she didn’t know - but Aria leaned on the railing, tilting her body toward him.

“You’re barking up the wrong tree, John,” she titled her head to the side as Shepard came up behind her. “But maybe you can convince my partner.” Shepard’s eyes were steely flint. Sharp and ignitable.

“Janey, she’s not used to being defeated; it clouds her judgment.”

Shepard bristled; the nerve of him, thinking he knew Aria better than she did. Thinking he knew Aria at all.

He brought a hand to his chin, debating something unknown to the pair. “It’s too bad you won’t work with us, sister. Aria clearly thinks seeing you will unsettle me, make me go soft. Like I didn’t know; like I didn’t want you here.”

“Sounds confident,” Shepard tore her gaze away from John and looked to Aria; her voice hushed.

“Yah, he does,” she murmured back. Her eyes said more: _this is just as much for you as it is for me, Shepard. Don’t ever forget that. This is about_ us _; not just my rock…_ “Lets see what you’ve got, Johnny,” Aria teased, light and airy, like locker room talk. She bounced off the railing, “end transmission.”

“Well, that went well, so much for the element of surprise,” Jane shrugged, looking to Aria for direction; she seemed to think for a moment, and Jane saw something fierce and damnable in her face; a contingency plan forming behind purple half-moons and violet irises. She looked up quickly, ignoring Shepard altogether.

“We’re ramming the station; everyone brace for impact.” As the people around them were spurred into action – buzzing bees and scattering feet – again, Aria practically strolled, taking her time getting back to Bray and the helm.

“What?” Jane rushed to her side, spinning her around roughly.

“Omega’s kinetic barrier will stop my ships from landing. I equipped this cruiser with disrupters to take it out on impact,”

“And you never thought to let me know?” Shepard still held her shoulders in her hands, almost shaking her. “This was Plan B? Jesus, Aria…” Aria ripped herself out of her grip,

“Don’t worry, we’ll probably survive the crash.” She didn’t smirk, not this time; just looked straight ahead.

Jane had a terrible sense of déjà vu.

The skeleton crew scurried around them, pressing buttons whose purpose Jane could only guess at, “Aria, this is crazy,” she breathed, unsure if she was listening or if she was too far-gone to care. Watched as she roamed the bridge like a predator, caged.

They shot toward the station at an alarming speed. Aria stood at the bow, as close as she could get to her precious Omega as the cruiser began to rock around her, the approach - and Omega’s atmosphere - too much for the ship to handle; “Aria!”

As they listed to starboard Jane could see orange fire of the battle the mercs had brought to her brother’s doorstep raging around them. The ship trembled and shook, cannon fire and small rocks pitting the glass in front of them. Aria braced against the console.

“Shields gone, systems failing,” Bray’s finger flew over the flight controls, looking to Aria for further guidance. His low, calming voice didn’t waver.

“We can make it,” she said; all staccato stubbornness.

“Aria, don’t be stupid: sound the evac,” Shepard yelled over an exploding console, the occupant of the chair slumping against the melting metal. Aria ignored her, willfully humming some song over her. Suddenly it was as it had been years ago: red and yellow sparks began to jump from equipment; bodies began to shake in their seats as the ship slammed into asteroid after asteroid; Shepard heard explosions and alarms in the distance: fire and cables and smoke and the rushing of air being pulled into vacuum. “Aria!” Consoles were going dark, their occupants fleeing or worse.

The asari turned to her and moved her head fluidly to the side to dodge a piece of flying shrapnel. “Doesn’t this all seem very familiar?” Shepard demanded, throwing up her arms. Couldn’t believe this was happening to them. Again.

“I survived,” was all Aria said. She abandoned her place at the bow, leaning over the command centre again.

“ _I_ _died_ the last time we did this,” Shepard stood with her body turned to her, breathing like a bull. Aria’s shoulders went rigid and she shot her another look: for a split second Jane didn’t recognize her; saw the dripping monster she had become in a long-forgotten dream. The mirage vanished as quickly as it had come on as Aria spun back to the holo of Omega. She slammed her fists against the CIC rail.

“Damnit! Program the escape pods for the station,” she waved her arm for Shepard to follow and Jane turned to their pilot.

“Bray; let’s go. Everyone out, there’s no time” Arcs were flying from almost every console now; the ship shook and blared an all too familiar alarm as they followed the glowing red arrows to the pods. Explosions went off around them, blowing out doorways; a vorcha was torn in half as he sprinted ahead of Jane; she ignored him and ripped after Aria. Crew lay bleeding or dead around their feet as they tilted and listed with the ship; Jane’s muscular form kept her mostly upright, but Aria’s lighter frame – despite its strength – wobbled. She grabbed her by the arm and righted her; resisted the urge to just scoop her up and carry her over her shoulder. She did want to live today.

Aria flew into a pod and Jane swung in behind her, using the top as leverage; Bray was nowhere to be seen and Jane sent a silent prayer to Athame and every Earth god she knew of that he had found another pod; another way off the wreckage that was Aria’s Trojan Horse. As they strapped in, pulling the bars down and over their shoulders – some kind of terrible carnival ride; a fun house of horrors – the pod fired, and they jettisoned towards Omega, clattering around like pennies in a tin can.

“T’Loak?”

“What Shepard?” Aria looked up at her, yelling over the cacophony.

“My wife may kill you for this-“

“Like I fucking care what-”

The thrusters of the pod drowned out whatever curses she had brought down upon Liara; Shepard yelled louder:

“Can we stop doing this? Getting blown up in ships?”

“Sure,” Aria drawled, hanging onto her bar for dear life, “it's getting old anyway.”

Somehow they managed to smirk at each other and Jane felt an overwhelming sense of love for her; despite the selfish and damnable, atrocious things she did. Maybe even because of them. Whatever it meant to be Aria T’Loak had drawn her in too deep to ever go back; like an angler fish: all beauty and light until it was too late. 

 _I fucking love you, Aria,_ she thought, _in so many ways – in ways I’ll never be able to articulate; in ways I’ll never act on again – but we’ll always have this perplexing, foul love; our own contaminated tale._

There was no one else in the Universe she could do this with; storm the breach with. Kill her brother with.

Shepard gritted her teeth and rode out the head-splitting pressure and rattling bones with as much finesse as she could, but they hit the station’s atmosphere with such a jolt that it tore her hands from the restraint and cracked her head hard to the side. She felt blood run out of her ear; from the calamitous noise or impact she didn’t know; didn’t care.

 _Please, get me back to Liara,_ she thought, eyes closed and head spinning, _please let me see her again; tell her how much I love her; see my daughter born._

She only vaguely noticed the rumbling as they tore through some roof – in some district, on some part of Omega; a place that had once solved all her problems and complicated all of her quandaries; brought her incredible pain and pleasure – before she blacked out.


	18. Interlude

Shepard woke to the tacky coldness of blood on her cheek and the screaming throb of a good head knock. Groaning, she slowly opened her eyes and took in the chaos around her, briefly wondering how many times one person could in fact wake up in such a state. The escape pod was mostly intact, but smoldering and crumpled: all tin can frail and oven-hot – but she had lived.

She tried the restraint and wasn’t surprised that it was jammed, wouldn’t budge an inch; she stamped out a small fire licking at her boots, and looked to where Aria should be. The seat was empty, the asari’s own restraint torn from its hinges, just bent metal where the queen had sat.

Peering into the dim – the flickering the only source of light; a staccato dance floor only she was left to enjoy – she spied a sticky, purple streak that made her own run cold.

She called out Aria's name, hushed and wary.

No answer. She tried a little louder, thrashing in her seat, the only real illumination coming from the outside where the door had ripped from its hinge, “Aria?”

She succeeded in slipping out under the bent and twisted metal only after taking her Omni-blade to the ruined bars. Shepard stood quietly, waiting for the ambush that never came. The ceiling was concave and dripping an oily substance, power cables slung dangerously low, and she brushed them out of the way, following the purple blood that led from the pod in a streak: death’s calligraphy; a brushstroke gone awry.  
She darted out of the trashed door, sidearm risen and ready, ducking her head to clear the frame. Rain splattered her cheek and she turned her head to the ceiling, where the weather welcomed itself in through the hole the escape pod had shorn through the roof. She spied an unfamiliar skyline, some district she neither recognized nor knew from Aria’s stories. The warehouse was quiet, only her footfalls breaking the concrete silence. As her eyes adjusted to the white-light and her head cleared she stopped dead, her heart freezing in her chest: Aria lay rumpled and bloodied on the pocked cement floor, on her side and facing away from Shepard. Her jacket was torn at the shoulder and her boots were scuffed, but from where Jane stood she couldn’t see where the blood had poured from, nor if there was the rise and fall that signaled life.

 

She let out a low yell, dark and damp and head-spinning, and rushed to her side, “No, no, no no no no…” She knelt and turned Aria onto her back, eyes darting a hundred places at once, hands hovering over Aria’s limp and lifeless form, not knowing where to touch, what to touch; if she wanted to close the distance and feel the marble-cold that would end her.

She had a substantial head wound that had gone to the bone, the blood covering her face like a shroud, and Jane fought the urge to shake her - to force those wicked eyes to open and that wonderful mouth to draw breath; to scream at her, to curse her from the heavens, she didn’t care. She whispered her name in the back of her throat, afraid to say it aloud. Afraid death would hear, that she would call down the wrath of Aria’s deeds; the specter looming just outside of her peripheral vision, the wraith who would finally swoop in and claim the Queen of Omega for his own after a life of sin and murder and mayhem. She was covered in abrasions and scrapes and bruises wherever skin showed from under clothing, but that delectable leather had done its job; had protected its mistress from lasting damage.

Jane suspected she had been thrown clear of the wreckage - had left the trail as she skidded along the path rather than been dragged or crawled – but had no way of knowing how long they had been out.

Her shoulders drooped, knowing she should take-charge, knowing she should let the solider take over; she wouldn’t rise to the occasion. This was _Aria_. She was immortal, she was infallible, she was fierce and cast-iron-fire-proof-life-proof-and…cold… she was so _cold_ …

 

_Cold hands on the back of her neck, trailing and tickling the tiny red hairs; “come back to bed, Shepard… it’s cold without you.”_

_Cold lips, chilled by ice from her drink, beckoning her in; cold lips, chilled by ice from her drink, chilling naked flesh, sucking and biting and-_

_Cold hands, warmed in her own – purple in pale, rough in gloved – hand-in-hand in the park, hand held in hand curled up during a movie neither were watching; hand tangled in hand in ecstasy._

_Cold eyes – cold stares – when love floundered, when passions ran cold._

_Actually, ran too hot…_ she thought. _I could never go cold for her… We ran too hot, that was our problem… we ran too hot._

She scooped her into her arms – like a child, like the lovers they had been – and brushed her forehead tenderly before pressing a finger to her pulse point and waiting. She dampened the howl of grief with pure will, the vile, sticky creep of loss threatening to crawl its way up her throat. “Come on, Aria,” she spoke soft and low, willing the _thump thump thump_ she needed to feel. “Come on, don’t you dare die on me… don’t you dare.”

 

_“…Look at me… don’t stop, don’t you dare stop--“_

 

Jane’s fingers shook, not able to settle; caressed her neck softly, feeling the grooves and dips and…

She felt the flutter of life in her neck and let out a sigh of relief, tilting her head back and closing her eyes. _Without her… without her-I don’t know how I would-what I’d be…_ “Don’t be d- you can’t be dead-I wouldn’t…” _I love you. I’ll always love you… I can’t…_  

The maelstrom of her heart churned with rotted emotions and taboo memories, feelings that skewered her in the core; tarnished Liara and their unborn child and the life they had created… but; the way her skin smelled after they made love, the way her body moved on top of her, under her, her mind around her, swirling and dangerous like a tornado. Like the demon she was the; Layla to her Majun, driving her mad; moonstruck and derailed and mercurial in her wants.

Always in her, always just out of view, lurking in the shadows and corners of the room – in the dark corners of her heart…

Flaunted and stalked around her, glib and overt in her sexuality; kept her on a leash with her tits and her ass and her-their-past and present and future…

She brushed that away and slung Aria over one armored shoulder, gathering her longing and fear in equal measure, and taking stock of where they were again. They needed cover and a place to regroup; they needed to find Bray and the other survivors. They needed to get back to Thessia and their wives, and their lives, and never speak again… she needed her to wake up. _Just wake up._

 

Shipping containers and machinery created a maze of impregnable walls around her as she scurried from cover to cover, listening for electronic voices. She followed the orange lights on the floor, cradling the other woman in her life close to her heart and hoping for a safe place to land; finally. For once. Hoping to find a safe place to land to get back to the one she had left behind.

Up some steep stairs and to the left she spied an office, darkened but enclosed, and took her precious cargo into gentle harbor at double time.

She lay Aria back down on her back and sat over her, running shaking hands through her own bloodied hair.

She unclasped her canteen and dribbled water over Aria’s worst wound – the one that lacerated her scalp – and gingerly washed her face with a removed glove, applied medi-gel; decanted her soul:

“Wake up, Aria… I can’t do this without you.” She wrung a torrent of amethyst-tinged water out of her glove and returned to her, taking care to clean her forehead, her cheekbones, her chin. “Every time I think I can quit you – I think I’m over you, I think I’m done with your bullshit – you turn around and do something like this…” Jane paused, licking her lips as she ran a wet finger over Aria’s. “But damnit, don’t die on me… not now. I wouldn’t survive it…”

Shepard sat back on her heels and absently rubbed her arm, “I can’t lose you.”

Aria moaned. Eyelids fluttered. Fingers twitched. “Jane?” Soft, scratchy, sore. “Jane?” Aria’s hand came up, weakly, and clutched at Shepard’s wrist, her hand; felt around and touched her cheek, gently. Shepard leaned into it, subtly, and nodded,

“I’m here. You’re all right. I’ve got you.” Aria moaned again and opened her eyes, squinting against the pain.

“What-? I-?” She slumped back down, woozy and paling, and simply lay there for a moment, hand returning to Shepard’s arm and not letting go, nails white and pricking her skin.

 

**_Thea…_ **

Shepard felt her heart tighten, looked away. She felt Aria squeeze her arm.

 **_Jane-It was dark and-_ ** _I’m here, I’ve got you **-cold, I was cold, Shepard…** You’re okay, God, thank God you’re okay-I- **I thought I lost y-** I wouldn’t survive it, Aria-I- **Fell awake into you-** Shush, you don’t have to-leave it unsaid **-No-I don’t care if it kills me in the end…** I don’t-_

_We’ve already… it’s gone- **It’s not-you know-I know you love-** Aria- **You make me feel alive;**_

_Her **-you-**_

**_The sound of nothing; it was terrifying, Jane… I was-_ **

_Show me- **Scared.**_

**_Her-_ ** _you_

 **_I’m what-_ ** _You’re my haven- **you’re looking for-I believe you are-but she**_

 ** _-_** _but_ her _-_

 **_Her-you-_ ** _her-you…_

 **_Change your mind; we can-_ ** _we can’t._

**_Start again._ **

**_I thought I could- change your mind; I thought-_ ** _I thought we’d be- **you’d-pick me…**_

_Aria-the hardest decision I ever had to- **It doesn’t have to be-**_

**_Show me what I’m looking for-_ **

_I’m sorry_

**_I’m sorry._ **

****

**_I love you._ **

The meld faded; they fell back into what they had been without thinking, without knowing. They knew nothing else.

“How long was I out?” She spoke through thick vocal chords, coming back to herself an inch at a time. Jane hadn’t seen her like this – vulnerable and weak; so mortal and fragile – in time out of mind.

“Don’t know. Long enough that we’d be dead if my brother knew where we were, so we got that going for us.” They were quiet for a moment, not knowing how to fit back into this mold; not knowing how to be _this_ anymore.

Not knowing anything else.

“You know, Shepard,” Aria croaked, her voice almost her own, “there are easier ways to get me on my back. All you had to do was ask.” She purred and sat up and Shepard blushed, fell back into their assumed roles all over again; the hunter and the hunted, the unwilling prey, the ferocious predator.

Aria and Jane.

Shepard and T’Loak.

Jane couldn’t help but smile, eyes crinkling, weary and – _had almost lost her._ Aria stumbled to her feet and steadied herself on Jane’s shoulder, who held her up and helped her find her footing.

As she always had.

As they always would.


	19. Chapter 19

“Bray? Come in, Bray?” Empty, crackling air was all the response Aria got. She staggered to the command center in the middle of the office and dismissed the manufacturing schematics in favour of a holo of Omega. Her fingers ran deftly over the glowing keys and the console lit her feature with an eerie blue glow. Shepard watched it all from her spot near the production-floor window; knew the smoking crater they had left would only go unnoticed for so long.

As Aria hummed over the digital map, Jane bit her lip and surveyed the floor for movement, for electronic voices or heavy footfalls like the ones she remembered from the night Jenkins had died. Felt like a lifetime ago, when Aria had been the divinity in her soul and Liara had been a distant memory; when things hadn’t been any simpler, not really. She had thought they had put it all behind them, _had finally come out of that place of malevolent, treacherous wants and needs and-_

She broke the heavy silence before it could break her heavy heart.

“Where are we?”

Aria didn’t look up, but answered in quick, clipped syllables, “We’re in Doru; mostly utility systems and ventilation. It’ll do.” She stood from her perch and tried Bray again to the same result; the half-moon rose in amusement, “well, I hope the other escape pods made it, or else I’m out a lieutenant-” she chuckled to herself, “and a babysitter.”

Shepard rolled her eyes.

“Relax, Shepard. This is how it works on Omega,” she joined her next to the window, violet eyes scanning. Jane turned to face her, red-hot flush rising on her neck at her facetious remarks;

“Don’t you even- Jesus, Aria- can you stop trying to get us all killed? What the hell was that back on the ship, anyway? Do you honestly have a death wish?” She clipped her rifle on her back before she did something stupid. _Like whack her over the head with it. Or carrying her all the way back to Thessia, dropping her in crater somewhere along the way. Get out of my head-out of my heart-out of my life-_

Aria narrowed her eyes, reading her thoughts; reading the emotion on her face and in her limbs; read her like the twin souls they were.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and let her weight rest on her hip; took a moment to scrutinize the human’s rage. “Surprise, Shepard. We had to do the one thing he would never suspect.”

“And how many people did you get killed?” Aria shrugged,

“They’re expendable. They’re all expendable.” Jane narrowed her eyes back,

“Even me?”

Aria didn’t answer right away; took another moment to brush leftover dust from her pants and examine one of her more painful scratches along her ribs,

“You made your feelings about where we stand quite clear, Jane,” she turned her back to her and faced the window again, opening her arms and pointing at the scurry of movement behind distant shipping containers. “This – _that_ – is what I brought you for, _Commander_. I know where we need to go, and you can get us there.” She brushed past Shepard, taking the time to touch her shoulder and flip her head to one side, “You’re here as a solider, not as my-“ Jane spun her around and Aria flinched; she hadn’t been gentle to fresh road-rash and embedded slag.

“After everything you just told me… after -What the hell-I thought we were done with this, and you-“

“Don’t. Be very careful with your next words, Shepard,” the seriousness on Aria’s face – all glacier water cool and flares; fire and ice where the volcano met the sea – made Shepard take a step back. “Don’t accuse me of feeling things I do not, nor being the only one to feel them…”

“You’re a sore loser, Aria. You’re sore that I didn’t pick you, as if I had any choice – as if I can help-“ Aria walked back to the console, locking the office doors.

“I don’t lose, Shepard. My first thought was of Thea, do not discount that-“

Jane’s teeth squeaked against each other and she blew out a heavy sigh of frustration; kept looking at the mercs circling their position; their strange white armor making them look like overgrown insects, the chatter from their radios barely audible through the thick glass,

“Then what do you want from me, Aria? What am I to you then?”

She didn’t even take the time to think; went from love to hate, reckless and spendthrift with her emotions and violence and bile.

“You’re expendable.”

 

The static of Aria’s comm coming to life broke the pregnant air. “Boss?”

“Bray, come in. Status?” The batarian’s deep bellow brought a weak smile to Shepard’s face; hope returned.

“Site secured, we’re prepping for arrival,” Aria nodded with her finger to her ear, motioned Shepard to join her at the centre of the room. Jane buried their fight and obliged, locking the clawing, clammy animal that was her rage and heartache deep down, where it banged around her ribs, fighting for a chance to escape and eviscerate.

“Where exactly is this rendezvous site?” She peered at the holo of Omega, spinning it around its beam of light with her gloved finger; Aria shot her a scolding look and pointed at an upper level:

“There are secrets on Omega only I know. Secrets that will provide us a foothold: That’s where we’re headed.” Shepard nodded, tracing the route the asari had highlighted with her eyes; looked like ventilation shafts and vents. “It’s a bunker I established on D deck for my… more sensitive operations. It’s utterly impenetrable–with it’s own secret hangar and dock. Independent power source, life support, munitions.” She walked back to the window, “You’ll see. Through these we can come out into Gozu; from Gozu to Tuhi District.” She frowned, tapping the glass, “we may have to deal with these fuckers first, though.” Jane nodded, unseen; her eyes were tracking the camera in one of the darkened corners. It moved, slowly, its gears barely whispering. She shot it, making Aria look over her shoulder.

“There’s a good chance he knows where we’re going…” Shepard kicked the smoking ruins of the camera over to Aria, who toed it,

“Then no time for sightseeing. Glad I got his attention.”

“Well, speak for yourself; what are we going to do about them?” She tilted her head to the soldiers outside, which were taking up tactical positions on the stairs, weapons raised.

The _pop-pop-pop_ of a sniper made the decision for them. Four heads turned to muddled, red smears in as many seconds. The remaining three Cerberus men scattered for cover while returning fire, the orange flares of their muzzles lighting up the night. The warehouse turned slaughterhouse in mere seconds as a dark figure dropped from a perch and threw them against walls and boxes with purple biotic lashes. Aria and Shepard both jumped back from the window before taking cover below it, their own sidearms snapping to life. They aimed warily over their heads, the silence after the storm heavy and unnerving. Minutes seemed to tick by, neither speaking, straining ears for sounds of violence.

Shepard looked up without moving her head, the whites of her eyes a signal for Aria to follow; she put a finger to her lips and gave a single nod to the ceiling, where light footfalls were barely discernable. They stood, silently, pressing backs to the window and following the sounds of boots with their eyes; Jane had hers set on a vent cover near the door, where the sounds stopped. Predator and Carnifax bobbed as they crept towards the entrance, one slow foot at a time, like a dance; as one.

Aria’s fists shone with the ghostly fire of her biotics; Jane wet her lips and counted to five in her head, slowly. Waiting. Watching. She nodded to the asari, who tore the vent from its place with one well-placed blast. The same dark figure jumped down instantly; ready. Had been waiting for it.

“Spirits, look who’s back: Aria T’Loak.” Aria stood, stunned; didn’t even take a step back. Dropped her gun back to her side and shook her head, slowly.

“Nyreen. What the hell are you doing here?”

Shepard kept her rifle trained on the turian, shrouded and hidden behind light armor, her sniper rifle was already on her back. She made a bird-like noise in her throat, amused, and showed her palms to the wary human.

Shepard narrowed her eyes, unconsciously mimicking Aria. The air felt thick; pea soup. Crackling and over wrought. She clenched her jaw briefly and checked the safety on her gun. Nyreen stepped into the light and turned back to Aria by way of answering:

“Playing cat and mouse with Cerberus, mostly. Just trying to stay alive – if it wasn’t for all these ducts and tunnels-“

“ _My_ tunnels,” Aria interrupted. Her face softened, her open and soft… “I’m sure glad I showed them to you.”

Jane stepped forward, one eye on Aria’s face – on her silence – _what the fuck?_ Bewilderment melted into seared envy in an instant as the pieces clicked together. All rancid, green possessiveness wrapped into the tight-band of burning hate; feeling sorry, feeling small.

She spoke to fill the air, “Aria doesn’t trust easily, I guess you’re a good friend?” Aria didn’t look back at her. Practically ignored her in favour of her own disorientation. The turian paced back and forth in front of the pair of misfits, cowl hiding her plated head; a smirk appeared, her mandibles – with its deep red clan tattoos - twitching.

“I don’t know, are we, Aria?” Her voice was light, full of that particular brand of toxic laughter left for exes and enemies alike.

It broke the spell she had over Aria.

“Shepard, this is Nyreen Kandros. Ex-turian military,” she looked Nyreen up and down; looked at her own feet: “We go way back.” There was the smallest of smiles, just touching the corner of her mouth, like the one that had played on her face the first time Shepard and her had said their goodbyes. At her piano, sticky from fruit and sex and- Jane stuck her tongue behind her teeth and tried not to clench. Tried so hard.

Aria stomped past her and out the door, unlocking it with her wrist; “I’ve got a lot of questions, but they’ll have to wait. Follow us.”

 _She really is the Queen, here,_ Shepard thought. _Of us, of this place, of it all… the Universe if it let her… of me, if I let her…_

Nyreen shook her head and didn’t follow, waited for Shepard to pass; she shrugged at her and fell into line. If there was one role she could play – especially for an audience – it was tough indifference. The dutiful soldier. The stone-cold-plaything. _The jilted lover…_

“I don’t need an escort-“ Nyreen’s flanged voice complained, finally following, out of protest.

“You know what happens to people who argue with me-“

 

_“I don’t believe I gave you an order, Marine…”_

 

How many of those memories did this bird have?

_“Right there, Jane;_ _oh Goddess, don’t stop_ _.”_

 

Who had she been to her?

_“Stay with me,” Aria reaching up and touching her cheek; “You fucking stay here with me. Make me come, Shepard.”_

 

Nyreen broke her thoughts as she broke out into gooseflesh, “Alright, but don’t count on me building your memorials when you get yourselves killed…” Jane could hear the sigh in her voice.

Aria looked over at Nyreen with crinkled eyes and a smile; “I like it when you’re feisty.” Winked at her.

Shepard’s arms tingled and she blew the thermal clip out of her rifle, loudly.

Caught Nyreen giving the asari another long look.

Died.

 

_“Touch me, Jane,” breathed against into an ear, hot and sweet. “Fuck me.”_

 

Shepard spun on her and cocked her rifle again; penis envy of the most artificial kind; _lay it on the table and let’s measure. I’ll win._ “You ready to put that gun to good use?”

Nyreen gave her a strange look, chartreuse eyes taking her in and boring into her soul. Like she recognized her. Like she knew her. Like she knew her very heart.

“You have no idea how ready.” It was laced with promises, but for whom Jane didn’t know. Didn’t care. Nyreen stormed ahead, giving Aria a curt nod and leading the way.

Jane watched her go, anxiety gathering in her stomach, curling into itself like a blackhole, sucking in every other thought and emotion; clouding it with images of her-her-her- _her_.

“Jealous, Shepard?” Aria brushed past her, sultry and pouting, “don’t be. Nyreen demonstrated zero… _flexibility._ She couldn’t put up with the… challenges of my life.”

“Why would I be jealous,” she answered, too quickly. Too high-pitched. Jane cracked her knuckles.

Aria leaned into her, whispering; barely an exhalation, her breath familiar – metal shavings and rusted iron lust - “you were better…”


	20. Chapter 20

“Oh sweet fucking Athame’s tits!” Aethyta swore loudly, stubbing her toe whilst knocking over the laundry basket as she entered the bedroom. Too many drinks with dinner had never been a problem for her before, but as old age began to nip at her heels she noticed a rise in the amount of times she had to stumble to the bathroom in the darkness. “Damnit,” she tried to keep her voice low, watching her bondmate for signs of waking.

“No need, darling, I am awake already,” Benezia’s voice startled her as her eyes tried to adjust. She rolled over as Aethyta slumped back into bed, pulling the covers off her feet in her haste.

“Did I wake you?”

“No.” Her voice was troubled, and not thick with sleep. “I cannot seem to rest lately…” Purple fingers gently rubbed her back through the thin nightgown she wore, comforting and light.

“Wanna talk about it?” Aethyta put on a brave voice, but went cold. Couldn’t stomach the thought of speaking about what had almost happened. Couldn’t stop playing it repeatedly in her head.

_That spineless, caveman, dickass, pansy-prick-I wish I had been the one he came after. I would have shown him a thing or two about Asari mating practices; leave him vacant, fucking burnt out and useless and-fucker-_

Couldn’t tell her about Aria’s video; it would destroy her.

“I-“ Benezia tore her from her own thoughts. “No, I am fine.”

“Could have fooled me, sugarcake,” Aethyta tried to get her to smile, to hit her playfully and laugh; anything. Instead her beloved’s face went tight and quivered, large tears filling large eyes. “Oh, Nezzy, come here,” she shifted closer and wrapped age-spotted arms around sky-skin that if anything had grown lovelier over the years.

“I did not tell her enough, The; Liara, I did not show her I loved her, and how will she forgive me once she knows what it is to be a mother…” Benezia cried into her pillow, almost silently; delicately. “How can I make up for all the time I almost lost? How can I show our grandchild-“ she shuddered and trailed off, sniffling.

In almost three hundred years, she had never seen her like this.

“Honey,” frog-filled voice searching for the right words. “I don’t know… I do know that Liara loves you very much, and knows how much you love her; she knows, she does.” She rubbed her thumbs on her forearms, soothing and soft. “She knows she has your support, and that you’d kick the ass of anyone stupid enough to mess with her. People may think I’m the scary one, but I’m just loud. Liara knows.” She kissed the back of her neck as punctuation, nuzzling and smelling the lilac scent of her. “And she is so much like you, Nezzy;”

“That is why I worry…”

“Oh-no, _don’t_. You’re the best thing that ever- damnit, Benezia, don’t do that. Our daughter is lucky enough to be more like you than me, come on now.” The elder T’Soni turned in her arms, eyes wet but crying stopped.

“Do not ever discount your worth, Aethyta T'Reve. Do not, I-“ she kissed her, hard. To shut her up. To stop her tears. She smiled into Benezia’s lips. Lips that had become as familiar as her own over the years; lips that she had first seen while curled into gales of laughter, sitting at a shining bar and sipping strong Akantha **:**

 

 _A young diplomat with periwinkle skin, wearing a pretty, yellow party dress, drawing the attention of a podgy-faced dancer-turned-bartender, with her laugher, tinkling like a brook. With her crisp, voice – honey-dark tenor and educated. With the undiluted way she conversed – actually paid attention and looked into her eyes when she spoke, listening – someone actually_ listening _for once – knees demurely held together sideways in her seat, almost touching, almost showing just enough blue skin. Challenging and arguing politics and history and galactic affairs into the wee hours of the morning, until the pub had quieted around them; until stools had been turned up onto the bar and the lights had been lowered, the fire extinguished in the hearth, but not in their hearts._

_So sure that she would never see her again; made her feel like the pauper to her princess. So sure their incessant arguing and opposite views of Thessian government policies and Matriarchal caucuses had been the end of their beginning._

_She had been cleaning a glass and telling dirty jokes with an ancient krogan when she had placed her credit chit on the bar the next night. “When do you get off, handsome?”_

_Had used her very first line on her then; not meaning to. Couldn’t not._

_“Not until you do; I’m a lady like that.”_

_Benezia T’Soni had paused and passed cool eyes over her – over the krogan warlord – and finally had begun to laugh. Loud and raucous, she smiled a thin-lipped smile that had turned Aethyta’s heart to mush, and her knees into puddles._

_Had let her make good on that promise, too._

_She had never seen anything in the galaxy more beautiful than the creature revealed to her as she slowly undid the zipper of that dress. Slowly unclasped a lacey brassiere and found what lay beneath. Slowly brought her name to her lips a hundred times._

_Refined and sophisticated on the surface; hellcat-naughty, wicked and wonderful, when the bedroom lights were low and it was only the two of them in the whole, wide world._

_A young diplomat who laughed easily and touched her on the arm frequently; with an impish sense of humor to match her own, and a clever glint in those ice-blue eyes. Who taught her to waltz and escorted her to super clubs and watering holes full of batarians and vorcha. Grimy food stalls and back-alley trysts. Who introduced the vagabond to fine dining and good wine, lavish estate living and Illium resorts, but never once tried to change her; introduced her to her parents without a second thought, without the doubts Aethyta carried in her heart about their pairing._

_A debutant to her slum; an emissary to the guttersnipe-drifter._

_Had saved every tip to buy her a bargain-basement bonding bracelet, dull and blemished and beneath her. Below her._

_But she had cried and said yes and been very much beneath her that night. Had never seen anything more beautiful than that slender blue wrist wrapped in the band of metal that marked her as her own; that slender blue wrist coated in sweat as she gripped onto her, moaning into the darkness._

_Had never seen anything more beautiful until she had brought their daughter into the world._

_And despite Aethyta’s faults, and despite the arguments they continued to have, she had never not looked at her with that same intensity. The same attentiveness. Had never not believed in her. Gold and precious and intelligent and worth something._

_And Aethyta was still spellbound by her, devoted to her all these years later._

_Maybe even more so._

 

“I am afraid.”

“I know, honey…” not something she had ever seen before.

“I am afraid of lost time. I am afraid of being... I am afraid of being touched, and you are afraid to touch me... I do not want to be afraid of your touch, Aethyta. I want you to touch me again.” 

Aethyta whimpered; “Oh, Nezzy… I’m so sorry. I’m so damn sorry. We’ll get you through this, babe,” she whispered against those lips she loved.

“Make me forget, The. Create good memories in place of these terrifying ones I carry,” she slid lovely long fingers along Aethyta’s side. “Make me brave again.”  
  
_The Goddess has been too kind to me_ , they each thought, _I do not deserve her._

 

Aethyta kissed her, long and soft. Holding her hands in her own; holding her body close and adoring the majesty that was the asari she was growing old with. The body she knew so well, but the spirit was missing. Had to find her again. Bring her back.

“I’ll do my best, babe; just don’t expect miracles. It’s late and I had a lot of scotch with dinner,” she teased, coaxing the silky nightdress up over heated thighs and a stomach that was still smooth and flat; making her squirm. Hands finding ample breasts there, making her cry out.

“The, be gentle. Liara is sleeping-“

“How do you think she made that damn baby, Nez?” She said around her bellybutton, eyes peering up from between cerulean knees. “I love you.”

_My own unabashed Robin Goodfellow… my very own pauper prince._

“Don’t you ever change, Aethyta. Don’t- _oh,_ Goddess-ever stop… making me- _Goddess, ohh Thee_ -feel alive.”


	21. Chapter 21

They splashed through tunnels that smelt like stale water and blood; like long forgotten and polluted pools and decaying bodies. Shepard grabbed the bottom rung of a ladder and hoisted herself up, rust falling around her ears as she ascended. The ceilings were too low, especially compared to the open expanse of Omega's irregular skyline: all metal slapdash and inferno slipshod. As they came up another shaft and out into another vent, she felt boxed in, like a mouse trying to outsmart a tiger.

Aria looked at home. Looked like the tiger. 

“Aria, you seem tense,” Nyreen was taking point position and kept turning her head back to survey both of them.

“Anger helps me focus,” she spat, pushing ahead and using one hand to shove an oxidized and long-forgotten piece of drill equipment out of the way.

“You know, there may be a diplomatic way to solve this,” Nyreen looked to Shepard, hoping for support.

Shepard ignored her, stared at the green algae growing around her boots as she stomped along.

“There may be demands we can meet, or-“

Aria stopped dead and Shepard bumped into her, watching her feet as she was. Imaging every pitted pothole was the turian’s face.

“-He presumes to sit on my throne. That’s all that matters.” White leather spun on them both: “now shut up; we’re almost there.”

Nyreen fell in behind, shoulder to shoulder with Shepard, who tried her best to not frown.

“So, you and Aria-?”

“She’s married,” was all Jane would give. Checked their position on her Omni-tool to avoid the conversation.

“Ah, yes, well… I had heard-I guess I just never believed it. Aria T’Loak, bonded,” she laughed and it trailed off, echoing into a dull thud.

“I’m married as well.” Shepard looked over at her, imploring her to drop it. To shut up. Nyreen gave her a sympathetic brow raise,

“It’s easy to get drawn into her orbit. Lost in her.”

“Is that what happened?” Despite it’s best efforts, she commanded the green-eyed monster inside of her to heel; was refreshing to have someone to talk this out with.

“More like I lost my way with her…” Nyreen looked to Aria’s vanishing figure, small and distant. So different than whom she really was. “But then there was this beautiful, fierce creature, who didn’t let anyone define her. I’ll admit, I was mesmerized.”

“Yah,” Jane replied, in a dream-state. _That’s it exactly… she’s hypnotic. She’s a burning star - nova-state and scorching anything that tries to come too close; that dares to stay. That dares to try and leave._

“But trying to be with her turned into trying to be her: Nyreen Kandros was vanishing. It took a lot to break away from her… but I regret nothing.”

 _Neither do I…_ Jane thought. She almost whispered. Too familiar.

Nyreen shrugged, “but, well, that was a long time ago.”

“Well, that’s-“ Aria interrupted their powwow; hollered back at them:

“Fucking hurry up, we’re through.”

 

Gozu was a smoldering garbage heap. All pipes leaking steam and garbage can fires. Downed skycars and portable barriers littered the narrow alleys and concrete plazas like fallen civilians; she was very glad the body count seemed low. Either that or Cerberus were good housekeepers... Shepard spied the pink lights of Afterlife between crumbling apartment buildings and the stock of her rifle creaked in her armored hand. If the bunker was indeed nearby they were in the perfect position to strike out at John and end his reign of terror. Aria crossed a narrow metal bridge that passed over a culvert, peered down and narrowed her eyes;

“Is that my couch?”

Both Nyreen and Jane glanced down at the ruin that had been the T’Loak throne; once rich and plush, now waterlogged and rotten. Aria huffed and Shepard patted her sympathetically on the back as she passed, vaulted over the jagged glass of a broken shop window, shards crunching underfoot.

Aria seemed to glide over; stepped over the smoking body of whom Jane assumed had been the teller. “Pity. Marsh was a nice man: temperamental, but useful.”

Shepard grunted, Valkyrie raised at jaw level. “It's too quiet.”

“What is your brother up to…? This place should be a warzone.”

Shepard looked up at the closed circuit playing on the screen.

“Looks like your people are causing a ruckus;” Cerberus soldiers were chasing civilians, trashing warehouses and shipping yards, overturning skycars and advancing on terrified citizens. Ordering mechs to round them up and corral them against strange red barriers.

“Good. They’ll keep his forces at bay for awhile.”

Nyreen tutted behind them, “I know what you’re up to, and I don’t like it,”

“Anything is better than being locked up like mindless animals waiting for slaughter, Nyreen,” Aria gave her a withering look and unlocked Marsh’s console with her Omni-tool. Behind them a wall slid open, exposing pipes and wires.

“They aren't attacking. They're occupying, yes, but Aria, they haven't killed a single civilian,”

“Shut up; he’s in my club, on my asteroid, ruling my people. My plan; my rules. End of discussion.” Jane nodded; Aria’s plan opened up the way to her brother, before he tucked tail and ran.

“But Aria-“ Aria twisted on her, both in body and expression. She slammed her into the wall, pipes digging into her carapace, her gun dropped near her feet.

“But nothing. He came after my child, Nyreen. He ends today.” She let her go with a final thump. “Bunker team,” she yelled into the tunnel, “Retract the barrier and lower the blast door. We’re coming in.”

Nyreen collected herself and Shepard bent, retrieving her weapon and passing it to her.

“I didn’t know-“

“Now you do,” cold. No kindness. _There’s a lot you don’t know._

They trudged along the path set by Aria, in silence.

“We’re in! Lock it down.”

 

“Once up and running, this bunker will provide recon and secret access to much of the station,” Aria’s bunker was alive with survivors and Omegans alike. Several walls of vid screens played surveillance on loop while asari, salarians, vorcha, and turians sat at consoles, the taping of keys and chatter of comms providing the soundtrack to their conversation. Aria looked to Shepard, “I’d appreciate it if you would quickly eyeball operations, see that things are setting up smoothly.” She nodded and went to the command centre, so much like the Normandy’s; _she’s a commander in her own right. This is incredible. Even after all these years there is so much I don’t know about her…_

Nyreen stepped up, awaiting her orders. She had been properly chastised in the tunnels and was quiet, introspective almost. “Your combat skills seem a little rusty, Nyreen, but you’re still a good shot. See my duty officer.” She sulked off to one corner of the operation, where she placed her weapons on the counter for inspection and replacement parts. Aria watched her go, wringing her hands subtly. “Bray,” the batarian stood from his own station,

“Boss?”

“Keep an eye on her.”

Aria was handed a datapad by the same captain she had spoken to via holo on the doomed flight, “what is this, Jarral?” Shepard peered over her shoulder, reading the report. Citizen uprising, mass camps of detainees, the Tuhi district was bombed-out, shut for business and empty. Zeta was full of Rampart Mechs. “Shit.” She shoved it back into the asari’s hands, who did a half bow and scurried away.

“He’s smart. Thinks outside the box-“

“Runs in the family,” Jane muttered.

“Very hard to predict,”

“I remember you said the same thing about me once…”

“Shepard, would you shut the fuck up and let me think?” Aria’s eyes were hard, but Jane read the smile behind them. The acerbic humor there. “So, his command center’s set up in Afterlife – no doubt a deliberate move to piss me off-“

“So are we taking a frontal assault approach?”

“Perhaps,” Aria tapped her lip with a gloved finger, staring over at Nyreen’s tall form, “but I think we need a distraction first. Let the people speak their minds; let our little ninja over there get us in, as I’m sure he has all _my_ routes mapped…”

Shepard’s eyes followed her as well, “She seems… nice.” Aria scoffed, turned back to her,

“You’re so quick to trust, huh, Shepard? Nyreen never approved of Omega’s– or my - what did she call it? _Moral bankruptcy_. Goddess knows why she stuck around so long.” Shepard had a good idea why. Her reason was a deep shade of byzantium and enjoyed leather. Had a fondness for violence and mind-blowing sex. _Sometimes at once…_

“But, you and Nyreen… must have made quite the pair.”

“Like we did?” Shepard did not want to revisit this. Not again, not with everyone around them. _Should have just kept my mouth shut._

“-no. I mean-did you lov-never mind.” She went the color of her hair and looked to Bray, who averted his eyes. Cleared his throat.

“It seems that despite my best efforts I have a type, Shepard. Disgustingly moral.” Aria had leaned over Bray, watching comm requests come through and approving or denying them. Jane watched the back of Nyreen’s head, where it bobbed in conversation with the arms dealer.

“She could be a spy, you know. She hasn’t even asked why we’re here, what we’re doing. Who I am – she must have put two and two together, Aria. We share a name…”

Aria actually laughed loud enough that her footmen startled and stopped their work; she gave them all a look that put an end to that.

“You're wrong there Shepard. I know for a fact she doesn't have a corruptible bone in her body...” Aria slunk around her imposing form and stood at the top of the stairs; made sure the run her hand over Jane’s body as she did.

Nyreen felt the eyes on her and turned, looked at Shepard before Aria; yellow on green, searching. “You just don't trust her because you hate to think of me writhing and sweating under-“

Jane flicked a gloved hand at her, but joined her at her perch “Aria-“

Aria pressed close for a moment; “Honestly, Shepard, I couldn't care less-“

“Prove it,” Shepard pressed back, ignoring the bore of Nyreen's yellow reptilian eyes in the back of her head. Ignored the look of shock from Aria.

_Go ahead, look. See how close she is too me. How much I mean to her. Unlike you who I've never even heard of._

She pressed into her space, looming over her with all the authority she could gather, her armor and height and squared jaw casting a spell over the asari; she hadn’t used her power and sex against her in so long it left her gaping. Left her leaning closer into her and purring into the inevitable. Sighing into wet lips.

_I’m not addicted to her… I’m not an addict…_

 

_Would Aria speak of her when she was gone? Think of her?..._

That woke the dragon.

Instead of letting her close the distance between their lips, she grabbed Aria’s wrist, sharply; she gasped. Hissed next to her cheek: “Is that why you rub your lovers in my face, because you couldn’t care less? Rub Thea in my face.“

Aria laughed again, low and rough. “She's my _bondmate_ Shepard. Don't be an idiot.”

Jane dropped her wrist like it was made of acid, the words tearing through her armour effectively. All power she had presumed to have, gone. She stomped away. “Fuck you Aria.”

“Boss?”

She watched Shepard go, rolling her eyes. “What is it, Bray?”

“Comm coming through; for the Commander.” Jane looked up from her spot at the railing surrounding the CIC; arms crossed, hunched over and pouting.

_I’m not pouting. I’m angry. I’m Lieutenant-Commander Shepard. I don’t pout… especially over a girl._

“Oh, goody,” she sighed, “Shepard! Stop your sulking, someone wants to talk.”

 

 

“Shepard, nice to finally meet you.” Aria tensed in the background, but Jane only had eyes for the smoking man in the chair. 

“I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure,” Shepard took a long look at the pixelated form that had replaced the holo of Omega.

“I represent Cerberus – actually, I _am_ Cerberus – Shepard, and I have a little proposal for you.”

Aria thrust her way in front of Jane, “Unless it involves giving me Omega back-“

“Take it, Aria T'Loak. I don't want your rock; I have what I want in Shepard here.” Aria glowered. Shepard turned her head, “Shepard, do you know that while humans refer to it as Omega, the asari name for it translates as ‘the heart of evil? The salarian name it as ‘the place of secrets,’ the turian name as ‘the world without law,’ and the krogan name for it is the ‘land of opportunity;’ clearly reflects their cultural attitudes towards this little hovel, does it not?” He took another loud drag from his cigarette.

“Your point?”

He spun in his chair, overlooking something Jane could not see; “my point is, Omega means a lot of different things to a lot of different people, but to me it was a means to an end. My end was you. And the eezo, if I’m being perfectly honest.” He turned back to the pair, “I'm building something Shepard. Help me finish and I'll give you and your little family everything you could ever want. Endless credits, resources, influence-“

“Not interested-“

He laughed, “You don’t even know-“

“I know that Cerberus tried to kill me on Earth. That they succeeded in killing a man under my command, so, again: not interested.”

The man in the suit nodded, thoughtfully. He didn’t speak for a long time; Jane wondered if he would reply at all.

“A mistake, Shepard. Before we knew your usefulness. One I won't be making again. When our batarian friend defected and tried to sell our secrets, Irissa found herself with a degree of control that she perhaps abused.” He took yet another drag and looked away, his wrist cocked out, the smoke from his cigarette lazily floating in front of his face, tangible to Shepard despite its pixilation. “Her end game was destroying you, not gaining assets for Cerberus; it won't happen again, obviously. She was liability that had to be silenced. You silenced Tela for me, proved how useful you could be…”

Jane ground her back teeth together; knew then there would be no bargaining, no trusting this man.  _So,_ _Bar’klen was Cerberus all along…_

“Have you heard of the Leviathan of Dis, Shepard?” She shook her head. Knew Liara would know what this mysterious stranger was speaking of. “The batarians found the corpse of something extraordinary on Jatar, Shepard. A monster, if you will; a billion years old and genetically engineered. Impossible, right?” Shepard nodded along, not following; not seeing the connection. “I believe this Leviathan – and, mind, I have no concrete proof, as the corpse disappeared not long after – was the body of a starship. A living, unknowable, machine.” Aria laughed, shaking her head with her mouth open in disgust. A memory pricked at Jane’s brain:

 

_Liara, in a tacky diner, sipping coffee and impressing Jane with her intellect: “_ _My theory-my research- indicates, that is-well- a race of sentient machines may have been responsible for their downfall.”_

 

The man lit another cigarette and Jane reached into her grenade pouch; pulled out a crumpled pack and did the same. _Fuck it._

“I have information that leads me to believe this wasn't a one-off. There is something coming, Shepard, and we need you’re help to stop it.”

“You're crazy. You're delusional,” she pulled a drag on her own cancer stick, throwing a look Aria’s way. _This guy, right? And here we thought these Cerberus guys were tough._

“I want to speak to my brother,” he cut her off.

“Not an option.” Something in his words chilled her again. He spoke as Aria did: commanding in its triteness, final and without argument.

“Plans change, Shepard. Your brother wanted Omega, but he's outlived his usefulness.”

Shepard's blood ran cold. Despite coming here resigned to kill him the thought left her skin pricking; a shallow void in her stomach.

“I have other sources of Eezo; there isn't another person like you in the whole galaxy. Despite John thinking otherwise,” he chuckled to himself.

He inhaled smoke deep into his lungs, a hissing sound that was strangely comforting, when mixed with his thick speech.

Shepard stamped hers out with her foot, threw the pack to Aria who caught it deftly. Fury was gathering below her breastbone; her brother had been duped. This man was responsible for it all: for John’s unhinged zealotry, for his unhinged actions.

_Doesn’t change the fact he taunted your wife; had plans for your mother-in-law to be raped. Murdered Thea’s sister._

_“Then find him and kill him.”_ For what he did to me.

 

“You used him.”

“Not precisely. He was an excellent solider, devoted, and ruthless. But always trying to prove himself, Shepard.”

Aria cast a strange look at her.

“It was the most interesting turn of events when your bondmates began to... Become problematic. You took my best agent out but sparked John into action. It's not often I'm in the dark, Commander, but little did I know I had a pale imitation of the real thing. It's a pity the Alliance found you first. I could have kept John on a leash.” His laughter was like his smoking: deep, raspy, and rattling.

 

Shepard seethed. She had been fooled, her eyes blinded by love. She marveled at the subterfuge; the foresight of it all. John had been used, thrown into this as much as she had; Cerberus hadn't ended with Tela; they had simply turned their attention from Tevos to Jane.

Had they been watching her since Interplanetary? How foolish they had all been thinking their confrontation with Tela had scared them away. She longed to draw her pistol and take the light out of those mechanical eyes.

 

“So you leveraged my brother? You duped him into thinking this was all for him?” Aria’s finger hovered over the terminate button, eyes locked on Shepard’s, waiting for the fiend to rise; for the shackles to break, and for her to splatter the world with blood and gore and the massacre that was her vengeance. Waiting for the perfect time to unleash the beast that was Shepard unchained.

“Blood is thicker than water; I believe the saying goes...”

“What are you building?” She was breathing hard from her nose; only two things did it to her: impending pleasure or impending doom. Aria cupped the small of her back; if it was meant to comfort it didn’t work. It riled her up; the unholy being inside her would always thirst for _her_.

“I am not at liberty to divulge, Shepard. But it's big; preparations against the war I believe is coming- but never mind that now. Join me and John and I'll give her,” he looked to Aria, hanging off Shepard’s side, “her throne.”

Jane felt the barometric heaviness of her temper in her temples.

“Think it over, Shepard.”

He was gone.

She slammed her fist on the railing and roared, Aria made noises of susurrating comfort, pawing her.

Nyreen climbed the stairs slowly, forgotten. “This just got a whole lot more complicated, didn’t it?”

Shepard reared up and at her, “No. It didn’t. We’re still here for one reason only: to get my brother out of Omega.”

Aria nodded, “He’s shown that no matter who suffers and no matter the cost, he stops at nothing. To defeat him, we have to be prepared to do the same.”

Shepard clenched and unclenched her jaw, fuming.

Nyreen’s desperation began to bubble to the surface, her code of ethics – usually so ingrained in Jane’s whole being – making her frantic. “Aria-think for a minute; the real culprit just revealed himself. The gangs have been taken into custody; the indentured servants have been released-They're under lock down, yes, but they're safe,” she pleaded, rushing around Shepard and following Aria’s pacing. “Think, for once.”

“-Lock down?” She spat the word like it was venom. “Omega _is freedom_... They'd all be living on the Citadel if they wanted to live in peace and harmony. _They want freedom_. They _want_ to run in gangs, Nyreen, they want to make their own choices.” Jane’s mood was infectious to her, seeping into her soul; running into her bloodstream. Driving her into an erotic, manic, dervish.

She turned to a calm salarian, who looked up with wide, lidless eyes.

“Az?”

The salarian’s tongue darted out and wet his mouth as his fingers flew over the console keys, “Everything’s in place, the entire station is connected.”

Every vid screen flickered over to Aria’s magnificent form, blaring down at them. She raised her arms over her head and began to speak:

“People of Omega, I have returned! Cerberus believes they have beaten you.”

She swaggered back and forth, hips rocking: slinking. “They believe they have you under control,” she shot a look at Nyreen - full of contempt - and pointed, demanding attention. “They are gravely mistaken.”

Shepard was already unclipping her rifle.

“You are the lawless of galaxy. You cannot be beaten and you will never be controlled. Be ready! Your chance to strike against your oppressors is coming.” Shepard imagined she could hear the crowds; Caesar, enticing lions to feed; beautiful and terrible and treacherous. Worship her and despair.

“Together we will take Omega back!”


	22. Interlude

Shepard rubbed the sleep from her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. She blew out a breath and rolled over on the small, hard, bunk – plywood thin and attached to the wall by a metal bar. Arms crossed and head pounding she stared at the wall and thought of her home on Thessia.

Thought of Liara.

Thought of Lana.

She had nodded off only to dream a dream of nightmares: _Liara on a cold metal slab like she was now; giving birth to Lana in her absence, screaming for Shepard, screaming for the pain to stop, for her bondmate to take the pain away. Of pools of indigo blood spilling from her and an infant that was cold and still and had violet eyes._

_“I’m not doing this without you.”_

 

Stared at the wall and thought of those horrific images, all cold-sweat and spine-chilling, sleep-stealing dread.

Thought of Aria.

 

Her noxiousness was inescapable.

Her draw was undeniable.

_“Is there somewhere I can shower and grab some shuteye?” She had been sick of listening to Nyreen and Aria argue the moralities of the Omega coup, had needed rest for both her spinning mind and her sore body. Bray had grunted and pointed Jane in the right direction, past the ration station, toward a rank corner of the bunker where a small door led to the saddest barracks Shepard had ever seen._ _She left her equipment in a pile on the grey bunk and padded towards the stinking showers, avoiding curiously wet spots on the tile and rusted locker doors. As she brushed cobwebs and rodent droppings from the stall, and stepped into a lukewarm dribble, she sighed, glad to be away from the briefings and finer detail; hum of biotics and raised voices; mayhem and heartache. Her muscles were beginning to scream at her, protesting the lack of care they had received after the crash, and she needed some food and some rest if she was going to take on the physical and mental toil of facing her brother. All she had to do was call up Benezia’s face in her mind – Liara’s face in her mind – the imagined face of her unborn daughter and her decision was reaffirmed._

_She hadn’t needed Aria’s rousing speech. All she needed was one good gun and a way in. Maybe not even the gun._

_She tipped her neck back and ran her hands through her wet hair, dragging sweat and ash and Aria’s blood out and down the drain; let the water run over her face, down her chest, over her toes. Blinking soap from her eyes she stared off, warm and lonely; melancholic memories making her rub a hand over her mouth, chin. Minor violin concertos in her soul._

_A dirty locker room stall much like this one; washing away grass stains and dirt and the scent of asari desire; Liara in her heart, Aria in her bed._

_A pristine shower on this very station, betraying the love of her life under its steamy stream._

_A familiar bathroom – one where pregnancy tests had been taken, and body wash had become ancient - rings had been left to break down to their base metals – curled up in the slippery corner and sobbing. Hands clutching a freckled face and hair hanging loose and limp in the cooling torrent splashing around her; knees drawn up to her chest and heart beating hummingbird drums of anxiety against her very bones._

_All she wanted was to slip into her own bathtub, Liara’s beautiful blue form nestled against her breasts, and sleep with the sound of her wife’s breathing next to her ear._

_She dried herself with a hand towel hanging outside the shower and dragged on underarmor still smelling like death. Toweling her hair, she came around the corner to find Aria._

_She was hunched over on the low bench, nude and applying medigel to her wounds. She was tenderly prodding blackened bruises, bent over, all spine and ribs and the curve of breasts. Shepard leaned against a locker door and took a good long look at her; stopped and took in her form._

_She hadn’t seen her, not yet, and she savored the quietness that was Aria alone. It wasn’t stillness, not precisely, but a coolness; the serenity that only came with absolute security in sense of self. Absolute command; absolute power. There may be doubts in that heart of darkness, but Aria_ knew there were _and that was enough; no illusions of who she was or wasn’t._

_But there was also a softness that Shepard saw in her rarely: When she was afraid. When she was in and out of sleep. At a kitchen counter in stretchy loungewear; making tea or reading a dusty book; curled up next to her under the sheets, letting herself be spooned as lips and fingers twitched in the midst of some dream. When she was in the thralls of pure and unquestionable love._

_Her body was long and lovely; so normal without its layer of latches and leather or the promise of sex in the air. Just a breathtakingly gorgeous woman before her, deep and rich and royal._

_“Like what you see, Shepard?” Jane closed her eyes and laughed, soundlessly. There was no real suggestion in Aria’s voice; it was tired, trite._

_“I always have, T’Loak,” she replied, walking by without the usual lingering look and smiling to herself once her back was to Aria. “I always have.”_

 

Shepard saw the glow from Aria’s datapad light up the wall. Looked over her shoulder to the adjacent bunk where she lay and watched her read, halfmoon turned to a sharp line in contemplation. Watched her rise and leave the barracks despite the weariness she could read in her face.

Jane sighed and rose as well, rubbed the back of her neck as she stretched; started the arduous task of armoring herself; transforming herself back into Shepard.

The war was starting.

_I don’t mean to miss it._


	23. Chapter 23

“The people revolt, chaos ensues…” Aria had the entirety of the bunker population at her feet, datapads and Omni-tools were open, fingers flying, taking hasty notes and confirming and reconfirming strategies, maps, contingencies.

 

Before she had called the ragged group of misfits together, she had pulled Jane aside, warily watching her other jaded lover from the corner of her eye:

 _“The people of Omega–_ my _people–love a good street fight. When it breaks loose, they’ll be ready.”_

_Shepard had nodded, double checked that her map of Afterlife was indeed accurate,_

_“So how do we get into the club without him being ready for us?”_

_Aria titled her head briefly at Nyreen, “Her. Her code of ethics won’t let her sit by if civilians are exposed. It’s what makes her utterly predictable and therefore easy to manipulate._ _She'll shut up and join us, get us in once she realizes the people are at risk_ _”_

Nyreen shook her head, next to her. Aria let her have one, disapproving, look, before continuing: “Shepard and I-“ she motioned for her to join her; “Will head onto to Afterlife.”

The disillusioned turian amongst them spoke up; one final effort to be the voice of reason amongst the zealots. The arbitrator in the conclave of the damned;

“I have no intention of sitting around while you both go on a wanton path through innocents.”

“Enough!” Aria boomed, her voice reverberating off the cement walls. No one dared to breathe. “He’s a dead man.” She gave Jane an amused look that spoke volumes to her: _you see, Shepard. Predictable._

She leaned against the rail and smoked. Silent and obedient; brooding and perfectly still. All James Dean-Cool Hand Luke to the asari’s Colonel Kurtz. Nyreen stomped off and disappeared into the crowd, a few heads turning to watch her go.

“Any questions?” Aria’s rag-tag band of soldiers shuffled their collective feet murmured as one. “Good. Go. Take back my station, and make Cerberus regret the day they crossed Aria T’Loak; the day they crossed Omega.”

Shepard stomped out her cigarette and fell in line next to her, adjusting her Kuwashii visor; Aria squeezed her hand and Jane nodded, curtly. _Ready._

“Come on, Nyreen,” Aria shouted, “let’s go kill the other Shepard.” Thrown behind her like a long cast; fishing for her response. Hoping the hook caught deep.

“Uh, Aria-“ 

“What is it, Bray?” She struck out at him with the quickness of a snake. He flinched; she sighed, “You lost her.”

As they approached the weapons locker Aria nodded to the attendant, leaned one elbow on the counter and looked to them, “This bunker has secret access points to other parts of the station. Unfortunately, Nyreen knows them.” She turned her Carnifex around in her hands, checking for defects; imagining the moment when she finally had the chance to press it between the eyes of John Shepard and pull the trigger; crimson soaking her hand, wet, warm, and flecked with grey matter - ending his life; ending this war and ending the hold he had over Jane. “Damn it, Bray.”

Shepard watched her eyes for signs of trouble. “So, what are we going to do?”

“About her disappearing act?” She holstered her sidearm and moved towards the bunker door, heels clicking, hips swaying. “I’m not concerned. If it was anyone else, I’d want blood, but Nyreen’s a variable I can control. She oozes virtue,” gave Shepard a long look up and down, _you know the type_. “I was hoping my tactics would drive her to get us in silently; convince her we would at least entertain the idea of capture, but alas. She’ll turn up; we’ll rely on your wits until then.” She turned to Bray, her back to the door that was slowly raising with the god-awful churn of unused gears; the electric hum of her excitement palpable. Jane could almost taste it in the air. _Ozone and blood; heavy, heady, slick desire._ Her skin had the warm glow of Eezo-fueled biotics, contained just below the surface; a monstrous beast about to crest the horizon and break the sea’s still. The charged air before an earthquake. Jane had never wanted to kiss her so badly.

“Tell them to engage; delay them as long as they can. We’re heading out.”

 

The plaza was quiet. Steel and stone lay dormant; no mulling crowds or food carts, drug dealers or couples pressed close. Like the seabed, it was devoid of color, of sentience. Apocalyptic in its silence and vacancy. The only life in the place came from a fire burning hot and bright - someone had torched a Cerberus Atlas and it lay smoking in ruin amongst cables coiled like serpents.

The club loomed over everything else, post-modern and classical all at once – much like it’s mistress -  it had been made for the pressing of bodies; for depravity and indulgence.

 

_“I’m here to see Aria.”_

_“Aren’t we all? Get in line”_

 

Aria’s symbol – Omega’s symbol – flashed at them from every door, window, and billboard; Jane saw her nostrils flare.

Shepard’s footfalls were muted, but Aria's heels clicked off every surface.  
“He knows we're coming.”  
Afterlife was flying Cerberus colors and Aria's eyes narrowed, biopics pricking her skin. The columns of fire had been extinguished, but it did nothing but ignite Aria’s ire.  
“That bastard is going to eat his own tongue for this.”

Damnable yellow and white replaced the electric pink; the plaza had taken on a muted, forlorn feeling in the absence of gyrating dancers and flashing lights. Jane heard the sounds of a firefight in the distance, gunshots from civilians and soldiers alike going off like firecrackers at regular intervals; Omega’s own Independence Day.  

 

It looked strangely sad without Aria’s presence permeating the nightclub; it was just a building again, nothing more. Yet, she knew what lay beyond the blazing antechamber; knew the importance;

 

 _The Queen, allowing her coveted access; sinking to her knees and falling into her familiar scent, her familiar body;_ _I need her._

 _The uncontrolled flame they had become._  

_I need you_ _–_ **I want you** _– This is for us, **just us;**_ **I’ll never cast you aside.**

_Always, have always –_ **wanted your body, your breath _–_** _your soul; shaking me apart, make me feel;_ **always wanted to touch you _;_** _I can’t keep my hands off of you;_ **never wanted to keep my hands off you.**

_Her touch, soft and tender. Later, her body, hot and wicked and untamed; uncontrolled._

 

They trapesed up the imposing, solid steps, checking their blind spots and waiting for the ambush that never came; slowly, slowly, one tread at a time.

 

 

“I can’t let you go in there,” a soft, flanged, voice preceded the sound of a thermal clip being ejected. She landed on soft feet, behind them; ghosting them. Planted between them and the door to Aria’s acropolis.

They froze; “My, my, Nyreen… aren’t you full of surprises.” Aria raised her hands in the air, slowly. Turned in an unhurried circle; Nyreen’s gun was at chest height, the barrel pointing squarely between Aria’s breasts.

“Aria, the deception was necessary: I needed to figure out what your plans were. You’ll kill him, and the Illusive Man will let you- he, he never cared about Omega’s people, or John… he just cares about-” she shot her green-yellow eyes to Jane, whose rifle was tracking her slow steps, “you.” She pressed the gun between the asari’s cleavage. Aria’s face: wolfish. She was one tremor away from her own mortality.

Shepard licked her lips and lowered her weapon, fastening it to the magnet on her back with careful, predictable movements.

“Nyreen…” she raised her hands, palms forward, “let us by. It’s clear John has been a puppet in all of this-“

“Spirits! I can’t let you hurt him…”

Aria’s gloved hand lowered Shepard’s arm; protective or proud she wasn’t sure. “You-and? Seriously, Nyreen?” she laughed, long and low. “I’m not easily duped. Well done. But why? He’s insane. He’s a monster.” She pressed back, into the gun.

“So were you. So _are_ you,” Nyreen growled. “I can make a difference here, Aria, with his help.”

Aria looked down at the cold steel barrel, unyielding against her chest, and back up into Nyreen’s eyes; she unclipped her sidearm with none of Shepard’s hesitation and raised it in the turian’s face. No apprehension in facing death. “Step out of my way.” She stood solid and fierce, practically glowing. Jane’s eyes followed the women’s guns, knowing better than to step in and interrupt Aria.

The asari blew out her own clip; a punctuation mark of the deadliest kind, all wild-animal sign of attack. _Back down or pay the price._ “You have one chance, Nyreen.”

She didn’t move, but darted her eyes to Shepard, who still stood stock still, just watching. Waiting. Aria gave her a Mona Lisa smile, but her voice was longsuffering and worn down, “Well, you always said I’d be the death of you…”

Nyreen’s shoulders slumped, their history too much for her to carry there, and the barrel of her gun dropped. She stepped out of the way, letting Aria by. “You’re pathetic,”

“Don’t kill him.”

“Oh, I won’t.”

Shepard gritted her teeth. Aria tilted her head back to Jane, “But she may.”  

There was surge of blue biotics, lash-like and lightning fast; a snap rent the air and Aria was suddenly lying on the ground, a cavernous gash across her side. She looked down at the purple smeared across the hand clutching the wound with a faint, haunted expression. Shepard made a move for her, panic on her face and pistol in her hand but Nyreen roared and put her head down, charging Jane like a krogan; knocking her off the stairs and onto the hard concrete in front of the club. Shepard rolled in time to avoid the worst of it, but they became a tangled mess of limbs, rolling closer and closer to the edge where Omega’s skyline dropped into the void between levels. Nyreen pinned her to the hardtop, landing blow after blow around her ears. Her hands gripping at Jane’s, trying to trap them, to get leverage. Sharp alien fingers dug into her cheekbones, thumbs mashing into eye sockets; Shepard grunted and yelled, clenching her thighs tight and swinging up; Shepard leaned up and bashed Nyreen in the nose with her forehead, barely making the turian flinch; splitting her head open, leaking blood into her eyes. Nyreen slammed her forearm across Jane’s neck and _leaned_ ; locking down her airway like a bent straw.

Dazed and bleeding, with her vision going shadow-dim, she managed to claw at her plated face, her hands scrabbling blinding and grabbing mandibles: yanking. Nyreen yelped and startled back and Jane took the opportunity to get her knee up and into the turian’s stomach, knocking air from lungs; she took the momentary gain to land another direct hit to her solar plexus, and watched Nyreen sputter and gasp. Jane scrambled to her feet, giving her another sidesplitting kick on her way, and stood over her, Predator steady in both hands. She was breathing hard, and wiped the blood from her face, watching Nyreen for signs of flight,

“You fucking stay down or I’ll kill _you_.” Took a second to catch her breath, breasts heaving under her chestplate. “Bitch.” She made the mistake of chancing a glance to Aria, who was bleeding all over the concrete; Nyreen used her ankle tarsal to sweep Jane’s feet out from under her. They flew up into the air and she seemed to hover for a moment before crashing back to the earth.

_The oldest move in the book and I fell for it._

_Literally,_ she thought as she landed flat on her back, knocking her head, the oxygen thumping out of her lungs in a single burst; that wheezing, vacuum sound of absent air leaving her lips. Her gun clattering across the stone, out of reach – out of the equation; Nyreen’s reptilian eyes peering down at her in disgust.

Suddenly she was weightless, helpless and floating as a singularity field lifted her off her feet; the irony of it was not lost on Jane.

_The best moment of my life and the last moment of my life… fitting._

 

“You’d pick _her_ over him?” She waved her arm back in Aria’s direction, wildly. “A fiend over a good, kind man-“

They began to walk as one – Shepard leashed and defenseless; a deadly dance, a terrible, lethal tango – towards the edge.

“He’s not, Nyreen. He may have been at one time, but-“ she was drifting closer to the abyss, the drop between decks becoming a very real possibility. A very fatal possibility.

“-he is trying to make a difference for his people, for all downtrodden people-the people of Omega! Liberate it from her.”

“He is a murderer, so many times over, Nyreen…”

“She’s the murderer. I know her, Shepard; I loved her-”

“I know-so do _I_ -I know what she is, but-please- let me down… we can talk this out.”

“You don’t understand him like I do-”

“He’s my brother, Nyreen- listen to yourself!” She tried to stay calm, but found her arms pin wheeling, desperately trying to direct herself. “Listen to reason; he’s irrational. You’re being irrational.”

“I’m sorry, Shepard, I really am.” Nyreen’s voice was barely audible, like the first cold wind in the fall; resigned, disappointed, unwavering. Jane’s toes dangled over the barrier, she could sense the air around her vibrate, the downdraft that was to be her final ride.

_“You come back to me, Jane Shepard. Come back to us.”_

“But I can’t let you-“

“He needs help, Nyreen; help you can’t give him-“

“You’re lying! You don’t want to help him, you want to kill him- Together we can nurture the good side of Omega.”

The sound of the gunshot cracked the air, displacing all other sound before reverberating off the outer walls of Afterlife and the empty piazza. The biotic bubble Jane was in burst, tumbling her to the ground where she tucked and rolled away from the edge. Nyreen looked down at her chest and gurgled a few silent words before sliding to the ground, blue blood seeping around her in a pool. Aria stepped over her and took Shepard by the hand, pulling her to her feet.

“There is no good side to Omega.”


	24. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the new love and comments! Sorry I haven't been able to reply as of yet to them all

“You-You killed her.” Shepard stared down at the dead body at her feet.

Aria clipped her gun to her hip, “I told you. Everyone is expendable.” Shepard took her elbow; needed to know-

“But you and her- you loved her,” she stared, straight-faced and unblinking.

Aria sucked her teeth, tight-lipped, “I never said that.”

She broke free and headed towards Afterlife;

“Aria, wait! You must feel something-“

Jane took her arm again as she tried to escape; tried to outrun their passions. 

 

_Maybe deep down it was the same for her._

_Would she eventually meet the same fate?_

 

“I can't kill John without your expertise, Shepard. It was her or you. Would you rather I had let her wipe you from existence?” Her hands and eyes opened defiantly and twisted sideways; _are we really having this conversation?_  
“Don't lie to me. You're perfectly capable;”

Aria ignored her and tried to continue up the steps, into her club. “Aria!” She turned, sharply, dangerously; “What do you want me to say, Jane?” Deadpan and withering. She stalked down the stairs to Shepard; a feral and inflamed Juliette, suicidal and carcinogenic.

“What answer could I possibly give that would satiate you? That it would be better if I had let her kill you?”

Shepard grimaced and peered at her from bitter eyes; Aria continued to walk toward her. “To finally get you out of my heart? Out of my head?”

Shepard snapped; “You know what, Aria, never mind, but get something into your head: I am over you.”

Aria laughed, sick at heart and beginning to fume, grieved and ablaze because of it.

“Now who's lying?” She stood at her feet; in more ways than one; “you’re not over me: you can't stay away from me Shepard.” She ran a hand along her jawline, this altercation of affection, aberrant; strange. “We have said goodbye so many times and you just keep coming back. You're addicted to me-“

Jane tore her hand from her face and took a step back, giving them space; giving them an arena for this dance that had been building for weeks. Months.

“-speak for yourself. You're the addict,” a finger pushed onto her purple sternum, solid and piercing. She made a salt-grinder noise in her throat and turned her back to her, “Throwing your damn tits in my face, throwing everything we ever had in my face…” Shepard spun back at her, vibrating. “God I wish I had never met you. Liara was right: You've done nothing but ruin me.”

Aria’s face melted. Shepard saw her transform through mournful and heartbroken grief – eyes dimming, fierceness going limp - into something revenant like; terrible and savage in an instant.

“And what about you?" Aria spat fire, "You and your perfect bondmate, and little family, and- every time I look at her and see you-“ her temper was masking her torment; making her lose her words.

The gargoyle inside of Jane woke at the mention of Liara and green eyes flashed dangerously; hawkish. They were nose to nose. The fine line between love and hate crossed at last.

“So you get it, but I don't? You get to go on and have Thea and Liselle and I just get reminded at every turn of what we had? What we did to them? Reminded that I-“

 

_She met her in the hall, where they crashed together like a wave meeting the shore. Jane hoisted Aria into her arms, her legs wrapping around Shepard’s waist, and they slammed into the wall, wet mouths on bare skin, and hands in red hair. Aria didn’t protest the lack of control, tilted her head back until her crest hit her spine, and arched into Jane’s arms, her tongue. Aria shed her gloves, kicked off her boots, as Shepard walked them to the bed and fell on top of her, peeling her out of her jacket, her corset, her pants._

 

“-that you what, Jane?” Steely violet, daring her.

“-don't,” a subtle head tilt; resolution waving. Their history playing in her head; flickering in Technicolor canon. She saw Aria’s jaw flexing; saw the flecks in her eyes, the scar tissue on her crest, from their first brush from death. They were both breathing like beasts: the only sound in the place.

“I love you,” Aria said, “Is that candid enough? I love you,” Aria flat stomach was pushing in and out with the diaphragmatic movements of her assertion.

Jane had never seen her eyes pinch tight and her lips trembling like that and-

_Was she crying?_

“Don't say it.”

“And you love me,” tears fell thick and fast and she did not turn away. She didn’t disguise them, didn’t run.

“Don't do this, Aria. You're like a drug, like an illness.”

 _All fever dreams and vein hits._ The anguish in Shepard’s voice made the double moon pinch;“What we have is... It's not right; it's not... It wasn't meant to be...” Her voice cracked, rising in volume. “ _So stop reminding me_.”

Aria was silent.

Imploring her. “Please... I love her. I love her so much, don't do this to me...” might as well have been on her knees; piteous and praying. “-I-“

Aria, broken and mourning; going to pieces in front of her eyes: 

“I will always love you, Shepard-“

“-Aria, _I know_. I know. I crave you. I ache… you’re like an itch- I-I love you…too.”  

_‘I believe this is where I should be_

_I follow only where my heart can be this free_

_But I fight, I fight,_

_The coldness of these nights without_

_The comfort of the sight of you_

_holding on to me’_

 

“But it's not the same... It's-“ she searched for the words to describe her soul; the pain – “- _miserable_. It's a septic, living, and breathing atrocity, Aria. I _can’t_ \- I can’t be around it. I can’t be around _you_. It’s too _hard_.”

Aria tried to smile; rumpled her face into something less tragic. “I like it rough, you know that.”

Shepard took her hands; “In a different life T'Loak...” a bleak smile matching Aria’s own. Tears matching her own.

Hands had drifted to her waist, holding her close, pressed against her. _One last time._   “I love her. Please, let it go; let us go.” 

“I couldn’t-she's not the only one who couldn't let you go, Jane...” 

 

 _Aria was a darkened street, lampposts lighting the way. Shepard was lost for a moment, unable to grasp such longevity and acumen, until she felt Aria stroke her, mentally, a reassuring guiding hand in the dark._ I’m here, take my hand. I’m here.  

 

_Under her. On top of her._

_Inside of her._

_Beside her. Shoulder to shoulder, facing the world._

_Her. Her. Her. her._

 

 _“I’m sorry I can’t make you happy for eternity; I’m sorry this is going to end someday_.”

Aria began to recite; mild, pallid-grey, despondent in its depth of yearning: “ ‘I loved her simply because I found her irresistible. Once for all; I knew to my sorrow, often and often, if not always, that I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.’ ”

Shepard looked at her with sorrowful, hollow eyes; as if she was seeing her for the first time: a beautiful, fragile, creature who had built walls of cinder block – walls of violence - to protect her soul. This horrendous, banshee queen who she had been able to reach; able to love.

“I’m sorry;” Hands still around the supple, corseted waist, covered in her blood;  

 

_The cool relief of medigel, making her shiver. Aria making her quake._

_“Don’t insult my hospitality, Shepard.”_

_Straddling her, a thumb running over a closed wound._

“Hey,” soft and soothing, peering down at the angry gash, “let’s get that taken care of.”

Aria gritted her teeth at Shepard’s touch, “Fuck, it hurts;” what infliction Shepard couldn’t guess: Nyreen’s to her abdomen or Jane’s to her soul. “But we’ve wasted enough time.”

_It wasn’t a waste. You were never a waste._

_I don’t regret you._  

“There’s time, Aria.”

Something in the way she said it drew her eyes.

_There’s time._

_One more time._

_Forgive me, Liara._

_One more time._

She kissed her. Long and delicate and Shepard felt like she would shatter with a single touch.

Aria moaned into her mouth, a gentle sob; knew it was her parting gift. A kiss of heartbreak, of despair; of inconsolable, endless love.

Aria clutched to her, fingertips leaving white marks on her cheeks, desperate to memorize her scent and taste; the texture of her lips and skin; the sounds she made only when pressed against her.

_‘Tell me what it is that I am listening for_

_Show me what I'm looking for.’_

“I’m so sorry, Aria.” 

The breath of Shepard’s swan song still in her mouth, she whispered next to her lips, eyes closed and voice tender: “I could have been your everything, Jane.”

Forehead pressed to forehead. 

“I would have been your Queen...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Absolutely did NOT write the lyrics or quotation. The copyright for these are as follows:  
> BETTENS  
> Bettens Music, Wallaby Records, distributed by Rough Trade.
> 
> Charles Dickens, Great Expectations, 1861


	25. Chapter 25

Afterlife was empty; the central pillar was vacant of dancers for the first time in eons.

“Nyreen Kandros was a good solider. It’s a shame she had to die for your petty ambitions.”

“John-“

The fire and garish neon lights flickered on, reflecting not off the faces of patrons but off gleaming, unused surfaces; Shepard had visions of empty saloons from old vids, dust swirling on deserted streets, pianos filthy and unplayed. The quiet after John’s voice faded away wrapped them in an envelope for a moment before the throbbing of heavy music came to life like a battle cry. Aria scowled next to her, trailing one gloved hand along a bar that was usually packed three deep.

“Looks like we were expected;”

“More like lured,” Shepard yelled out for her brother’s ears. “You would have made a good commander, John.”

“I am a commander-“ He was standing on the raised platform Aria ruled from. Jane got the first good look at her brother in months. He was dressed in a Cerberus uniform, white and cut well. His face was skeleton gaunt but his physique was formidable. Had left her a heart-sore teenager, but materialized as a full-fledge solider. He had an M8 rifle in his hands, gesturing enthusiastically with it.

“The role of Commander Shepard is already filled…”

“By the wrong one!” He yelled, juvenile and petulant. Jane saw the little boy he had been and her heart sunk. _Can I do this?_

Aria stopped below him, hands on her hips. “Shepard remains cool under pressure. Mind clear, shit together. Take a good, hard, look: that’s what fearlessness looks like.”

“I’m the real thing: I’m the lone wolf you were always meant to be, Jane.” He motioned to Aria, “Without the emotional baggage holding you back. That was touching, out there, by the way. I wonder what your wife would think, Janey.”

Shepard drew her pistol, trailed him in her gun's sights but was unable to take the shot... _He's my brother._ Her heart lamented the terrible decision, growing both tight and hot. _My only..._

A shot rang out in her ears, the rush of air and vacuum of a bullet's path tearing by her head. She dove for Aria, shoving both of them down, where they scrambled to find cover; metal shavings bounced off the pillar they darted behind.

“It’s over, Jane. Surrender and I’ll only kill the purple bitch; I’ll make recommendations to my boss – you can leave the Alliance and come work with us. It’s over.” She couldn’t tell where his voice was coming from anymore; it echoed off Afterlife’s walls and empty bars. Aria’s body glowed with biotics and she exploded, launching herself out and up; “This isn’t over until your next of kin can’t identify you!” A Valkyrie ascending; a bird of prey; awful and exquisite. She slammed into him; he had been advancing slowly down the stairs; to Jane’s position.

“Wait!” She rushed ahead; wouldn’t let her take the decision out of her hands; not this one.

“Aria, no!” She spun her around but Aria let loose another torrent of biotic energy, knocking her sideways and down, before grabbing John. She lifted him by the face, slamming the back of his head into the wall at the bottom of the central staircase. “You took my sovereignty,” she hissed next to his ear, low and like a lover; her eyes were ice; pools of descriptively clear, dangerous water. Vicious.

He groaned, blood seeping from his ears after being caught in the same force that had been directed at his sister.

“I-“

Aria struck him, close fisted. Shepard heard the bones in his face crack; crumble like old plaster. “You’ll say anything to save your skin,”

She hit him again, and again, his chiseled, handsome face – her father’s face – sagging and crushed.

Her gloves, her knuckles – her arms - blood-spattered. White jacket crimson.

“Aria!” Jane flew at her; the asari pinned John against the wall with one hand and spun on her lover; pulled her Carnifex out and shoved it into Shepard’s face.

“No,” was all she said; growled. “He dies, now.” Her eyes were pools of eternity and Shepard started, reluctant. Afraid of her for the first time.

Wondered if she would shoot her dead, now, here, where they had fallen in love.

John bubbled spit and blood down his own chin; Jane noticed strange orange scars running along the face that had been so familiar. Strange orange lines that looked so much like the ones she had carried; that had faded over time to nothing.

_What had Cerberus done to him?_

He looked past Aria and into her eyes. She didn’t recognize him.

“Okay, Aria. Okay.” She stepped back and let her throw him off the wall and down the steps. “Make it quick.”

She laughed and advanced on his crumpled form. “Oh, no, no, no.” He tried to crawl away, to reach his rifle. She put one pointed heel square in the middle of his hand, mashing bones. “Have the sense to know when you’re beaten. Give up,” she crooned, crouching and putting more weight on his useless left hand. Jane shook her head and began the slow walk to the door; couldn’t look. Knew she should. Knew this man had tormented her wife, threatened Aria’s daughter, assaulted Benezia… He whimpered.

“What’s that?” Aria bent low, wrists resting on outturned knees, hands hanging coolly between her legs. He spit a tooth at her,

“Never! I’m not going out like this,” she recoiled and he rolled; Aria’s heel tore through his hand like paper but he grabbed his gun and brought it up in one fell swoop, bashing her across the face with the full length of it.

Shepard heard the thud of the impact and the sound of her nose breaking before she had a chance to react.

“Motherfucker,” Aria swore loudly, clutching her nose and staggering back. He brought the butt of the M8 down on her temple and Shepard saw her fall and bounded behind a table in time to avoid the _rat-tat-tat_ of gunfire that came her way; she pulled it down behind her.

“He is using you John, don't you see that?” She shouted from behind the overturned table, now pitted with deep bullet holes.

“You don’t know what it’s like-I-they-I had to do it; there’s a war coming, and if we don’t prepare we’re going to die. All of us. Humanity is poised to tipped the scales, and they won’t listen!” His voice was tinny, high-pitched in pain; she couldn’t track it. She carefully peered around the tabletop; darted to the cover of a pillar, flat-backed and locked and loaded.

“John, listen to me. We can sort this out. Think of Mom and Dad.” She heard a sickening thud and bellow; a pained moan from Aria, oddly erotic in its pitch. Then there was nothing. “John, what did you do?”

Silence.

Shepard slowly made her way up to the second level of the club, glancing to her three o’clock, her six. He had disappeared. She swept the corners and dark recesses of the sweeping terrace level, which was full of booths and chairs; empty cups and broken glasses littered the floor and Shepard hoped the patrons had made it out alive. She looked to her right, could see Aria’s balcony from her position but had no way to access it without returning to the ground floor. To where her brother prowled, dangerous and unpredictable, like and injured wild animal.

Shepard strained her hearing, listening for tells: the rustle of fabric, the creak of a boot or floorboard, the click of a thermal clip. Nothing.

“John, please.”

“Do not speak of them.” She spun, his voice coming from below, somewhere near the entrance. “They were mine. Mine. Until you came along. I- I loved you and all you did was tear our family apart.” A bullet put a hole next to her foot.

Jane closed her eyes, his madness went deep.

“I loved you, too, brother. I loved you so much –“ Shepard sighed, heartsick. “I didn’t kill them, Johnny. Don’t let _him_ taint what we had,” another shot went by her head, from the opposite direction of the first one.

She found a staircase and descended, watching for him. “Remember when we went camping that time in Upstate New York? Remember, John?” She scrambled around a pillar and raised her gun, muscular legs keeping her in a crouch as she surveyed the ruins of Afterlife. “You and I shared a tent and I was afraid of the dark; you told me funny stories to make sure I was okay. To make sure I wasn’t afraid of the noises in the woods.” She spun slowly, keeping in the cover of tables, a bar, stools. “I adored you. I wanted to be you – you- you taught me how to be _me_ ,” she choked back a sob of pure frustration; it was grief without the release of tears. “You taught me how to ride a bike, how to talk to girls, how to play music- I write music, John. Did you know that? You’re with me, everyday…”

She saw Aria's body on the ground in a heap, at the foot of the stairs to the lounge they had made love in so many times. _How have we come so far_? She thought kneeling and placing a hand to the emblem on her jacket, never lowering her eyes. Steady ride and fall: not dead. Not yet.

“You didn't love me.” His voice echoed in the stillness; he was still by the door. Shepard saw his leg peeking out from behind the circular bar around the dancer's pillar. Aria's attack had sapped his strength. “If you did you would have found me.”

Jane lowered her weapon but didn't holster it, taking measured steps towards him.

“You left _me_ , John. I was a child...” The anger wouldn't surface. All she felt was the wispy fog of weariness. She stood over him; he was sitting against the bar, bleeding and puffy-faced. “You should have taken care of me-“ She looked down at him, forlornly as he tried to drag himself to his feet, his sidearm in his good hand, the rifle too heavy. He gave up and pointed it at her, unsteadily, and pulled the trigger. She didn’t flinch. The shot went wild, his arm bloodied and useless; shaking from the weight of the gun. It embedded into the bar at thigh-height. She slid down the wall next to him, taking his rifle and leaving a foot or two of space between them for good measure. Sat and turned her head to him, “I just wanted my brother back. I was lost without you; I had no one. Listen, I'm sorry. _I'm sorry_. Don't let him do this to us. He's in your head, John. He's planted these ideas.”

“He understands me, Jane;” she had hoped for a reunion. For a redemption. For her brother to come back to her. She sighed, getting to her feet and throwing him one last look, “goodbye John.” She kicked his pistol away and it clattered across the floor, and made her way back to Aria.

 

Aria was stirring as she returned; quicksand noises of unconsciousness fading. Waking dragon whining. “Where is he? Did you-“

“No. Go. Finish him; he’s not my brother anymore.” Jane lifted her to her feet; they staggered close, weary and battle-sore. _I can’t do it._ She stayed in her space, eyes asking the silent question hanging in the air. _If you love me – if you ever loved me – do it. Please._

Aria nodded, touched her parched lips. Jane wiped blood from her crest and dropped her arms trudging up the stairs as Aria crept towards John, her weapon dormant; this was personal.

Shepard leaned against Aria’s railing, wishing her couch were there to save her from her own exhaustion. She was utterly spent. Weak. She couldn’t see them, not from where she stood, but she could hear. Heard Aria backhand her brother; his muffled cry and the creak of her leather.

“What are you doing-get away-I-this is murder,”

“That’s right. Cold-blooded murder. No less than you deserve,” imagined her eyes growing dark, filling with smoky desire. Soft, like she was speaking to a lover – to a child.

“Jane, what is she doing-Jane!” Shepard closed her eyes and turned around, the small of her back against the rail.

_What Aria does: live._

The sputtering sound of hands around a bruised neck; the thick, ugly gurgle. She lit a cigarette, blowing the smoke out low and long.

Imagined his eyes rolling back, his skin reddening; twitching.

Aria’s voice floated up to her: arousing, sultry and mellow; her bedroom voice, the one when she was in control and close – so close…

“Oh no,”

_“Touch me, Jane. Fuck me…”_

“Not yet,” she drew in a ragged breath that was almost a moan, “You don’t get a quick, easy, death.” Luscious.

Imagined her keeping calm, keeping that steady pressure; feeling his windpipe slowing giving way under her thumbs. His body convulsing and finally going still; the last thing: Aria. Aria’s breath close to his cheek, her smell, her desire; her empty, void, eyes. Her exhalation of pure pleasure.

***

“There’s a lot to rebuild. Starting with this… _command centre_ ,” she joined Jane and hung off the railing next to her. “It may take some time to remove the stink from my throne. Wonder if I’ll ever really enjoy the pole dancing in here again.” Shepard looked at her - at her brother’s blood staining her – _It’s over._

_It’s finally over._

Pitched her an unlit cigarette and rested her head on Aria's shoulder while she smoked.

“Thank you, Aria.” Aria didn’t answer. Just smoked in silence, eyes alight with droll satisfaction. The same boneless glow she remembered from after sex.

_I’m not for the meek, Shepard._

When she was done she tossed the butt over the railing and put her arm around Jane’s waist, let her tuck her head into the crook of her neck; let her shoulder take the burden of Shepard’s heart.

Would carry her around in the background, forever.

_I’ll feel you long after we’re through._

Her broken nose, Jane’s bested spirit.

Their shared broken heart.

One hand in her hair, long fingers absently playing with sweaty strands of auburn; consorts, partners, allies. Comrades in arms.

Let her cry.

 

***

“Citizens of Omega, hear me. I, Aria T'Loak, have given you back your lives. My rule is reignited. My hand is on the controls once more, and I will not let go again. Each of you owes a debt. Gain my favour by rounding up the remaining Cerberus invaders, and… … we’ll take our revenge! It’s their turn to tremble, their turn to bleed.

Going forward, your lives will be hard. We may be bruised, we may be bloodied, but the price you pay is for your freedom. Only I can protect that. And hear this: I will make Omega impenetrable. No one will ever threaten my domain again. From this day on, the galaxy will know one hard truth: Don’t fuck with Omega!”


	26. Chapter 26

Shepard made lazy circles in the bath water with her finger, lean arm draped over the side and into the tub. She flicked droplets at her wife and Liara opened her eyes, smiled.

“You’re dripping all over the floor, Jane.” They had tried their usual configuration, Liara nestled into Jane’s breasts, legs entwined, but Shepard had eventually given up; had slid out from behind her and sat on the floor, head resting on the edge.

The baby broke the surface of the water, large and round and so blue; wouldn’t let Liara get comfortable, even floating in the cloak of warmth that was the bath.

She shrugged, didn’t care.

“So, what did Dr. Michel say?”

“Soon; she’ll be here soon.” Shepard gulped, ran her hand over her daughter; felt her shift and push out. Liara placed her hand over Jane’s, smiling. “I think she’s getting impatient.” Her belly had dropped and she was breathing easier.

“I know I am.” She stood and grabbed a towel, wrapping herself in the fuzzy luxury before holding Liara’s out, letting her step into it and draping it over sopping, blue shoulders. “I’m gonna go pack the last few things for your bag,” she kissed her and let her dry herself off; a lot more of a process nowadays.

Jane rumpled her hair damp-dry and tossed the wet towel on the bed. One of Liara’s pet peeves, but she was just glad to be home. She took a moment to slump down and lay on her back, legs hanging over the side, the quilted softness she would never take for granted again. She went over the mental checklist for the hospital bag; spied it lying on the floor next to the door. Sighing, she rose, grabbing oversized underwear and nursing bras from the wardrobe and the book she was currently reading from her night table. Didn’t think Liara would have time for one, not while she was busy giving her a child.

Liara leaned on the doorframe and watched Shepard puzzling over the breast pump she found shoved in the closet.

“You do not need to pack that, love,” she laughed and took it from her; handed her a stack of small receiving blankets in lieu. She paused; opening her mouth to ask- closed it again.

“What?” Jane raised one eyebrow, smiled at her, “what?”

Liara sat on the edge of the bed, groaning and massaging her spine absently; didn’t know how to ask. What to ask.

“Are you okay?” was all that slipped out; _please be alright._

Jane subconsciously clenched her teeth, a brief flash of her brother’s dead body passing behind her eyes; bluing and battered.

“Yah. I’m okay,” she reached out and squeezed her hand, “I am. It’s over.”

“Would you like to talk about it?”

She shook her head, “not yet. Not now. I just want to curl up in this bed and spoon the love of my life. Enjoy the quiet before the baby comes; enjoy her once she joins us.” Liara nodded, pulling her robe on over smooth skin.

“Well, that I can help with,” she nuzzled into her cheek, letting her hand linger there as well. “But my parents will be home shortly, so don’t get any ideas, Commander.” Jane laughed, pulled the covers down and let her try and get comfortable.

“Scouts honor; it didn’t even cross my mind. I just want to sleep. I just want to be close to you and sleep.” She closed her eyes and let Liara adjust herself into the crook of her back, ankles resting on ankles and her arm slung over her hip. “You smell wonderful.”

“I love you, Shepard.”

“I love you too, honey.”

 

As she drifted closer to that snug, languid, sleep that only afternoon naps seemed to give, a dark cloud passed over the sun that was her cozy state; _I should tell her… I can’t hide this from her._

_Your funeral, Shepard…_

Aria, in her head again, even while she listened to the soft puffs of Liara’s breath. Had to tell her. Wouldn’t hide anything from her ever again.

Aria, who had her very being in a vice; while her heart fluttered and beat out the rhythm of Liara’s name, there was the bronze bull that was Aria T’Loak, slowly – slowly – setting her ablaze, until she combusted from want.

Her own iron maiden; nimble and sensual, yes, but just as steely and cold.

_No, no longer. I will tell Liara and it will be over; it will be hard, but never again._

_Never again._

She drifted off with them both in her head.

 

Aethyta woke them well into the evening; had spied Jane’s duffel by the door and let them rest.

“Alright, lovebirds up-up. Cover your tits and ass;” Liara opened one sleepy eye and rolled over, but did indeed pull her robe closed where it had fallen open.

“Father, do you have to make it sound so… tawdry? We were napping,”

“Hey, babe, if it’s all civilized, you’re not doing it right; semper gumby and all that, cause we know your track record with _semper fi_ , right Shepard?” Jane mumbled and threw a pillow over her head, “nice to see you back, by the way, Leatherneck.”

Liara’s command of Latin was strong enough to blush purple, closing the door in her father’s face. “Hey, hey, okay now; come out and say hi to your mother.”

 

Benezia was putting away groceries as Shepard came stumbling out into the kitchen, tousle haired and sleep creased. “Welcome back, Jane,” she smiled, turning from apples and pasta sauce to face her daughter-in-law. Jane took the jar from her and put it on a shelf; closed the cupboard and took her elbow, guiding her away and into the hall.

“He’s dead, Matriarch. I just wanted you to know that,” Benezia was silent; mouth too dry, heart too weak. Had felt a pang of hot anger when she had unlocked the door and saw the signs of Shepard over the house. _Will he haunt me forever?_

“Jane. Thank you,” was all she could manage; brought her hand to Shepard’s cheek and lovingly stroked it.

“Benezia,” it was the first time she’d called her that; she thinks anyway. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I dragged your family into this hell-“ The asari patted her cheek and shook her head,

“You are my family, Jane. You have brought such joy and love to our daughter – to _us_ – please. When you see half a millennium come and go you learn that the Universe has very little order to it. This was not your fault.” The corner of Shepard’s mouth twitched, trying to smile; she just looked bashful, all freckles and long lashes and hair sticking up at the wrong angle. “You have given me the greatest gift – two, actually – a grandchild, and peace.” They hugged, a proper embrace that left Shepard smiling and filled the cavity John had left, and Benezia clasped her hand; a release from the burden she carried, the guilt and shame. Her bondmate came tearing through the front door, and they both turned to the whirling dervish that was Aethyta;

“Nezzy? Come get this damn bag; your child eats enough to fill an elcor. I wish she’d hurry up and pop that kid out.” Shepard smiled and ran to the rescue. Again.

 

***

Liara had paced the house all night, practically prowling up and down the halls; Shepard was surprised she hadn’t worn ruts in the floorboards. It was less of a cagey slink and more of a skittish, wary patrol... as if she was trying to out run the impending agony.

Her contractions had come far enough apart for her to escape them for some semblance of normalcy, at first. Now she knew what was coming and was guarding, readying; trying to outpace them. Shepard didn’t know what to do. Had followed her around for a little while and watched her bend and gasp for breath, riding the wave that was Lana’s arrival. Cresting over the worst of the pain whilst leaning with her head against the wall, breathing strong and fast.

“How far are they apart?” She moaned against the plaster and paint, looking at Jane from one wide, blue expanse. Shepard checked her Omni-tool.

“Ten minutes.” Grimaced, as if this was her fault.

_It was; kinda._

Liara swore and Aethyta opened the guestroom door, looking left and then right at the party in her hallway. “What the hell?”

_They had eaten a late dinner and Liara had gone to bed complaining of her constant back pain; of a deep, lingering stomachache. Had thought nothing of it at the time, just more joys of late-term pregnancy._

_Shepard had joined her an hour or so later; had stroked her crest, listening to the fretful, tiny noises she was making in the back of her throat. Had watched her restless movements, rolling and twitching and curling into herself to try and release the pressure against her spine._

_Around 1 she had shaken Jane awake, fear in her eyes and pain etched across her face. “I think it’s time.”_

_“No, honey, it’s still early,” she had mumbled – idiotic and asleep – “we don’t have to be up until 8.”_

_“No, Jane. The baby.” Shepard had come fully awake then, rocketing out of the bed and flailing around the room, all arms and legs and panic._

_“Oh-oh-oh, okay. Oh. Uh-what do we – should I start the car?” Liara’s face had contorted and she bent over in her sitting position, holding up a finger to her and riding out the wave. She grit her teeth together and moaned; Jane’s stomach dropped, all watery chill in her stomach. She went to her and rubbed her back, sitting next to her on the bed and not knowing what else to do._

_“Not-_ ugh _-not yet, I think they have to be more regular… run me a bath, please?” She had risen and began her pacing then as Shepard hurried to fill the tub with hot relief._

 

“She’s in labour,” Jane’s face had knotted with worry, her usual at ease position and calm coolness was gone, replaced with a frantic, still, human.

“Well shit.” Aethyta looked back at the sleeping Benezia.

“Don’t, Dad; not yet. Let her sleep for now.”

“Do you want to get back in the bath, honey?” Jane clung to the place where one wall met another, peering out. Aethyta pulled the bedroom door closed behind her, guiding Liara down the hall in her arms. She hissed at her on the way:

“Kid, listen, she’s prolly hating pretty hard on you right now – I know, I know: not your fault, but just go get her something to drink and fill a hot water bottle, yah?”

 

Liara perched on the edge of the couch, doubling over and moaning loudly as Jane came in with a mug of hot lemon water and the heating pad. Aethyta patted the couch and let Shepard slip between them, cradling Liara as she leaned into her, face twisted and buried in her armpit.

“You gotta get through this on your own, kiddo. We can’t make it hurt any less. But we’ll be here, okay?” Liara nodded and pursed her lips, an uneven stream tumbling over her tongue. She rose again; resumed her pacing, in circles around the living room. Shepard let her go, sat with her hands between her knees, looking helplessly at Aethyta; she gave her a sympathetic look and sighed, sipping on Liara’s drink.

 

Liara was in their bed, huffing through sweat and tears. She had followed her father’s advice and tried to sleep, but every time a contraction passed she knew the pain was close, skulking not far away; that they were coming closer together now.

Every time it began it was like the first one all over again; her lower back - her abdomen and the far-away land of her uterus - would slowly, slowly begin to seize, muscles turning to stone an inch at a time, twisting and twisting and twisting like a swirling whirlpool – until it was unbearable. It was so much more painful than anything she could have imagined, than anything she had ever experienced.

She felt like she was drowning; couldn’t fight it or it would get worse. Just had to ride it out with clutching hands and light-headed breath until it let her go. She was a torrent of noise, of moaning screams and gasps climbing from the soles of her feet. Shepard lay beside her, stroking her back, her crest; wiping the salt from her limbs, from her face. “It hurts,” she cried, “Oh, Goddess, it hurts…” Understatement of the century, but nothing else would describe it. Aethyta brought her a cup of ice; let her suck on the cubes as way of distraction, until the current of her daughter’s birth dragged her down again.

“Mother,” sobbed, thick, the sound caught on her tongue and dissipating before it left her lips.

Aethyta checked her Omni-tool: 3:30. “Yah, I better wake your mom. She’ll warp me through a wall if I don’t,”

“I am here, Liara,” Benezia glided through the bedroom door, silky robe flowing behind her like a cape.

Liara choked back a cry; grabbed her hand and began to sob in earnest; deep, guttural, child cries. The cry only a mother’s bosom could cure. “Shush, here, meld with me. Let me take some of it from you.” She laid her hands on Liara’s temples, pressure calm and comforting; joined with her and they both went quiet for a moment, Liara’s face relaxing for the first time in hours – in days, if Shepard was being honest – and Benezia’s pinched tight. What they were experiencing together Jane couldn’t begin to understand, but she felt her wife’s body loosen next to her, just a little. Just enough to lift the weight that had been lying heavy on her heart.

 

“I can’t do this. I can’t do this, Shepard.”

Jane was walking her slowly up and down the hall, trading off with her parents, hands supporting her waist and back. Stopping with her and letting her double over, clutching her belly, and scream. Stopping with her and letting her clutch onto her shoulders, digging fingers into flesh and leaving deep bruises; teeth pressed together, grating and sharp; face – usually so lovely and light – slick and hidden in her neck, into her sternum. Low, bovine, noises escaping her.

“You can, Liara. I know you can,” she rubbed her back through another moan, cetacean and broad. “You are so brave and so beautiful. You are the strongest person I know; you can do this.” Liara tried to smile; it turned into another grimace.

“How do people do this?” She turned her face to her parents, who were watching them from the end of the hall, “How did you do this?” Benezia smiled, wanly.

Aethyta shrugged, “don’t really have a choice, kiddo. Once you’re knocked up this is the result;”

 _We wanted this so badly,_ she thought, trying to push through, resolved and reignited. _We chose this. We want you so much, little one. It’s not your fault, you are not hurting me. We love you; come out safe and sound._

 

“I want to go to the hospital,” Liara was sapped; white and shaky and delirious with exhaustion. She was crouched on the floor, rocking back and forth, cradling her belly; somewhere deep inside Lana was finding her way. She dropped to all fours as a particularly bad contraction hit and she screamed, “Shepard!” Lilting in its pain, like it had been carried on the wind. Still rocking, still crying. Jane dropped to the ground next to her; she had sent Aethyta and Benezia back to bed, to get some rest before the big event.

“I want to go; please. Take me to the hospital now,” something in her voice was terrifying; some mix of fierce, protective, mother-bear and vulnerable bird. Little Wing.

Jane checked her wrist, the timing of her latest contraction; “We’re not quite there yet, honey. They’re still too far apart.”

Her water had broken the hour before and the rocking had started; the screaming had started.

“I don’t care,” she struggled to her feet and leaned against her; clutched her hand. Another one hit her and she almost crushed it.

“Yah, okay, that was pretty damn close together,” Shepard admitted, shaking her hand out to regain the feeling. “I’ll call Thea and let her know we’re heading over.” Hadn’t wanted to bother her too early; Aria was still sorting out the mess that was Omega and they hadn’t wanted to wake Liselle for no reason.

Shepard poked her head into her in-laws bedroom and knocked softly, “we’re leaving for the hospital. She’s-“ Shepard didn’t actually know how to describe her wife. “I’m gonna bring her.” Benezia rose and hugged her; Jane nodded against her shoulder, _I’ll be okay. She’ll be okay and I won’t let anything happen to her. The baby will be okay._

“We’ll be along shortly,” behind them Aethyta snored away.

Jane smiled, turned back to her after a moment;

“Bring coffee?”

 

Liara was in the back seat, sitting sideways on her hip. Trying to prevent her backbone from tearing itself from her ribs; that’s what it felt like, anyway.

“Hang a right, no –“ a moan, “wait: left.” Shepard gripped the wheel of the skycar until her knuckles went white.

“I know the way,” she replied, perhaps a bit too curtly.

“A left; Oh, Shepard, it hurts. Hurry.”

“I’m going, honey.” She drifted,

“Traffic: oncoming traffic!” Shepard swerved, thankful it was so late and the lanes of Serrice were all but devoid of cars.

“We’ll be fine…”

“Truck,”

“I know.”

“Truck!”

“I know!” She lowered the car into the lower lane, the semi grazing past them with a breeze that shook the very frame of the machine.

“I kissed Aria.”

It popped out without her meaning it. Couldn’t keep it in any longer; had successfully kept herself from vomiting it all over Aethyta and Benezia and Liara at home. Had worried what her parents would have done to her – in the midst of their daughter’s torment – if she hadn’t.

“And? You tell me this now, Shepard?!” Her voice rose in pitch, but from pain – the unbearable, cresting, terrible pain – not anger. “I don’t care.”

“Really?” Shepard looked back over her shoulder at her in the back of their car, pale and shaking and creating new life and felt like an idiot for bringing it up. For doing it at all.

Perspective was the greatest gift the world could give.

“Jane, do you _want_ me to be mad? I can be mad if you wish. Watch the damn road.”

Shepard did as she was told.

“Well, no.”

Liara shifted positions, groaning and digging her nails into the ledge on her seat. “Did you sleep with her?”

“No!”

“Then I do not care; just _get this baby out of me_ – Truck!”

“Again?”

 

The nurse was holding her, guiding her to a bed, as Shepard laid her bag on the cot in the corner of the birthing room. The lights were dim and it was quiet; much quieter than she had expected. She had expected screaming women and beeping machines. _Typical asari. Everything is so…_ She didn’t finish the thought; almost smacked her own forehead with her hand:

“I forgot the carseat.”

“Get-it-later, Shepard,” Liara gasped for breath and screamed again. “Please. Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t. I won’t ever leave you again…”

They got her into the expansive hospital bed, with its better-than-average sheets, and she curled up into herself again.

“I want the drugs, Jane. I don’t care what I said, I want them,”

“Honey-Li-you said-“ She made a sound of pure despair; long and agonizing and wretched.

“I don’t care what I said,” she clutched her hand, bone-shattering and bruising, “the pain is so bad.” She was worn down and exposed. Exhausted. Sobbing again.

“Do you really? You told me… but if you really want them, I’ll get them for you.”

 _I would get you anything. I would do whatever it would take to relieve you of this. I would take it all onto me, if I could…_ she touched her belly, lovingly; felt the tension there.

“No.” Like a little girl.

Their little girl, so close. So close to coming home. “I just-Shepard, lay with me?”

“Of course; oh honey, I am sorry.”

_I am so sorry, Liara._

She slept for a little while then, somehow, through the pain. Shepard lay awake and watched her.

When the nurse came in Jane smiled, watched her poke and prod her wife until she had to wake her and check her dilation. Liara moaned, the contractions on top of each other now; no relief. _We regret to inform the audience that there will be no intermission during tonight’s performance of A Lana T’Soni Story. Please remain seated._

The nurse leaned over Liara, who looked up at her through unfocused eyes, “May I?” Her hands hovered over the swell of her and Liara nodded. She was panting, nauseous and ashen. Shepard was worried she was going to pass out,

“Honey?”

“I am fine; I just-“ she heaved and Shepard watched her vomit over the side of the bed. The nurse stepped deftly out of the way before patting Liara, lovingly;

“That’s alright, darling; we’ve seen it all. You just do whatever you need to do to feel better, okay?”

Liara wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and nodded again, sheepishly. “Okay.” Small, docile.

Shepard brought her a cup of water to sip on; watched as the nurse laid her hands on her, their eyes going black;

“Liara,” she spoke soothingly, rubbing gently, “try and keep the meld going with her, okay?”

“It hurts, it hurts so much-“

“I know.” Her eyes became her own again, but Liara’s did not; focused on their baby. “But her heart rate is elevated, okay? Nothing to worry about, but she needs you.” Liara’s eyes slipped back to their most wonderful shade of blue and she took a shuddering, calming breath. _She needs me. My daughter needs me, and I will be there for her. I will be calm._

Jane heard ‘heart rate’ and ‘elevated’ and went white, sunk down into the hard chair, so much like the chair Liara had slept in for a week straight on the Citadel. She grabbed her hand and rubbed the soft pad between her thumb and pointer finger. Liara looked to her and smiled before moaning again. Fought back a scream.

“It is fine, Shepard. She is fine. I will keep her safe. I promise you. I will be brave for her.”

“You are. You are so brave,” tears leaked out of her eyes and Liara squeezed her hand, tired, but strong.

“So is she; she is Shepard – I can feel it; she is trying so hard to find her way to us.” Shepard let out a small sob, placed a trembling hand on her belly, still so hard and full and _there_ ; tangible.

Thea popped her head into the doorway and Jane smiled at her. Liara turned her head,

“Liara-“ she came to her side and gave her a half-hug. Opened a shallow meld and they conversed in their strange way for a moment; so much easier to catch each other up; bring each other up to speed.

“Thea-“

“I know, Liara; I know.” And she did. From Liselle. From the meld. Shepard felt like an outsider, but not in a bad way. Like she finally had someone else she could lean on; share this burden with. Liara’s parents were one thing, but she always felt like a child when their child was in pain. Thea could help them through this. Shepard rose and hugged her, hard. “Aethyta and Benezia are with Liselle, just outside. They said they would come in whenever they could-” turned her face back to Liara. “Whenever you wanted them to.” She took a seat next to the bed and let Jane stretch her legs; her eyes said: ‘go’

_Have a break. Take a breath. Get your coffee and have a smoke. I’ve got her. I’ve got you._

“Thank you.”

 

 

Liara lay on her side, finally finding some relief as Lana shifted and wasn’t pressed so insistently against her spine. She was whimpering, relentlessly, the minutes holding her hostage; every contraction bled into the next and she felt like she was reaching her breaking point; her precipice on the edge of madness.

Thea was speaking quietly to Benezia and Liara closed her eyes, reached her mind out to her daughter; small and scared and crawling her way to an unknown place, an unknown adventure. Toward her mother’s voice.

_I love you, Lana. Come home to us. You are doing so well, little girl; we cannot wait to meet you. It is just you, darling, and I, right now. Let us enjoy these last few moments alone. You are so brave._

Liara drifted off with the image of her daughter in her head.

Shepard came back in again, stinking like cigarettes and holding another take-away cup. She sipped and palmed her wife’s crest. She offered a second cup to Thea, who took it graciously and sat. They both watched Liara sleep. Waiting.

Waiting.

 

 

“Okay, Liara, you’re completely dilated- you have to push now, honey.” The nurse had arrived with Dr. Michel in tow.

“Lee-are-ah, how are you, darling?” Liara moaned at her, sweat-damp and cross-eyed - and Chloe smiled, “yes, yes. I know, it does hurt, doesn’t it?”

“Shep-arde, and you are well?” Jane nodded with a little shrug; _I appreciate the thought, Doc, but really, sheesh, this is about her._

Liara reared up out of the bed – as far as Lana’s bulk would let her – and made a sound Shepard had never heard come from a sentient being; Shepard withered _._

“Why did you do this to me?” Pitiful.

_I’m sorry, Liara. I am so sorry._

“I didn’t! You asked me-“ Shepard took her hand.

“I-why did we do this?” Shepard was having a hard time remembering, herself.

Liara pushes then, a bottomless, tearing, boulder-shifting effort; squeezes Jane’s hand.

Shepard’s sweating now, too.

She’s crying now too.

“You can do it, honey. She’s almost here. One more; come on. You’re brave.”

She pushes and pushes and pushes – for eternity, forever - and suddenly she’s lighter, freer – empty - and there’s no more pain – not really – and there’s a wet, scratchy, yell neither of them have heard before but recognize instantly. Know instantly. Love instantly.

And then she’s there, on her mother’s chest, looking dazed and overwhelmed, but home. At last.

Shepard’s mind goes blank. Her lips tremble and she looks down at Liara, who is soaked; spent. Elated. She’s looking at her daughter – _their daughter_ \- with an expression so deep and full of love and devotion Jane can’t describe it; has never seen anything or anyone create that look on Liara’s face; and her own face crumbles into tears so profound – of such magnitude - that her vision blurs.

Liara was confused for a moment; after so long – after so much – there was this tiny blue creature at her breast. Fronds smushed, eyes so large and so black. With Jane’s fingers, and her own nose and lips and a little bit of Benezia– a calm washed over her. Everything was suddenly so simple. _Oh. There you are. I’ve been waiting for you. Hello, Little One. Welcome._

She began to cry the breathless, gasping tears of joy she had been waiting for; looking to Shepard – to her love – and seeing the same shining pride there.

“Hi. I know you…” Jane stroked her daughter’s tiny arms and tiny back – smaller than the expanse of her hand – and tiny crest. Lana grabbed her finger in one, blue, hand and Jane thought her heart would physically fly from her chest. “Hi.” Liara’s hands were cradling, loving, learning how to mother, and Jane felt a hand on her shoulder; took Thea’s in her own. Had forgotten she was even there. Everything but Liara and Lana were just a blur; trees through the fog.

Saw Benezia and Aethyta at the door, Liselle peering around the frame with shy eyes; Aria’s eyes.

“She’s beautiful.”

“Yah… she is.”

She’s here.

Finally home.

_Welcome._


	27. Interlude

She was perfect.

Shepard watched her daughter at Liara’s breast, blowing milk bubbles and snorting softly. She was lying next to them in their bed with her head leaned against one hand, a perfect little family at last. She kept reaching out to touch her small feet and tiny knees. Lana was naked save her diaper and blinked obsidian eyes at her father every so often; fuzzy and unfocused, but realizing she was there. Liara was gently stroking her back, the top of her head, and kissing the place where her crest began, softly. Breathing in the soft, colostrum scent she carried. Their skin tone was nearly identical, and Jane marveled at the resemblance already showing.

_“I think she looks like you,” Liara had said, but Jane knew different. This girl was all T’Soni._

Liara readjusted herself against their headboard and laid Lana against her shoulder, burping her and humming softly, a melody she had heard coming from Jane’s office often over the past week. Shepard smiled, sat up and reached her arms out to take her. Liara handed her over and stretched as Jane found a comfortable spot; leaned up on some pillows, Lana sound asleep on her chest.

“I would like to shower if that is alright?” She gingerly stood - was still sore; all chapped, chaffed, tearing and healing stiches. Shepard nodded and smiled; _of course._ _I won’t break her._

_I hope._

Being a father was hard, but it was also the best thing she had ever done. She didn't know if the delirium was from lack of sleep or happiness but she ran with it regardless. Had craved this for so long. A tiny girl that looked like Liara and felt like home. A legacy to leave behind when she shuffled off the mortal coil. 

She looked down at her, with her thumb in her mouth and her soft skin. She had Liara’s long lashes and eyebrow markings. No freckles, not yet, but Shepard suspected she would inherit them as well; either hers or Liara’s, the kid was doomed.

 

Liara padded down the hall, nude – parents had gone, friends were tactfully staying away unless invited – and flushed. She turned on the water and examined her body in the steaming mirror:

Her body ached, from birth, from tiny hands grasping and pulling; from latching and nursing; from being a mother. Her breasts hurt. Her back hurt. Her azure hurt. Her stomach, still so full and pregnant-large, had become strangely squashed; a deflated balloon, all stretch marks and air. She sighed, wondered if she would ever be slim and alluring again.

The water was too hot, the stream too steady, but it felt wonderful. It was nice to have a moment to herself; just a moment.

After, she dried herself carefully – so cautiously – and rubbed soothing lotion on sore parts, she found Shepard with her eyes closed, Lana dreaming fitfully in her arms. Liara briefly wondered what was making her fists open and close: thoughts of her mother’s breasts, warm and full of milk? Her father’s music, filling tiny ears with memories? Or something else; some ingrained, secret, Lana peculiarity, that they had yet to learn about their daughter’s hopes and dreams.

The thumb she had been sucking popped out and Lana made a small sound that wrenched at her heart; her face contorted into something gummy and inhuman and Shepard _shushed_ her with gently rocking; a soothing voice. Eyes still closed she began to sing, softly:

_‘I am everything I want to be_

_With your loving face in front of me_

_With your eyes that hum the perfect song_

_To go on long after I am gone.’_

 

Liara smiled; something inside her blooming. _Oh Shepard…_

 

_‘In your eyes I see eternity_

_And a girl that looks a lot like me_

_Eternity, a little trip_

_You're the beat my heart will skip’_

_‘When I lay beside you_

_When I lay beside you_

_When I lay beside you_

_I am perfect’_

 

Lana quieted as Jane finished her song - Lana’s song - and she opened her eyes; felt Liara’s gaze on her. Had never thought she would have this happy ending. A lanky, orange-haired orphan twice over; boot drop out-gang member, brought back from the dead; an unfaithful girlfriend-turned-tempted wife. _To be here, now, with my child and the most beautiful bondmate-_

Jane kissed her head, green eyes shining, “Thank you, Liara.”

She held back the tears; “She’s perfect. Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Absolutely did NOT write the lyrics of the song; the copyright for this great tune is:  
> Writer(s): Gert Bettens, Sarah Bettens  
> Copyright: Double T Music


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I can give one order throughout this whole thing it would be this: listen to this song! Listen to while you read. Listen to it. It's integral. Just saying.

“Sir?”

“Keep an eye on her,” he tapped his ash off the end of his cigarette, his chair spinning soundlessly. He gazed out at the conflagration that was the system’s star; hot and orange and unruly.

Like Shepard.

He took another drag and crossed one leg over the other, shutting off the datapad and contemplating. “When we’re ready to go public we’ll reach out to her again; with a child to protect she may be more willing to listen.” He terminated the holocall and stubbed out his smoke, pressing one of the many buttons on the arm of his chair. “Ventralis? Keep working on the Feros project; speak to your contact on Noveria, we’ll need him for the Rachni experiments.”

“For now leave Shepard alone. She's killed enough of my people. If the time comes we need her I'll find her myself.”

 

*** 

“It's just a breast Vega, Jesus. I mean, I’ve seen Williams’ once or twice in the barracks; wait? Have you not actually seen them yet? And to think, I used to look up to you…”

“With all due respect, Skipper: screw you.” Ashley pinched James’ arm, as if he was the one who was kissing and telling.

“Yah, but it’s the Doc's breast... couldn’t she like-“

Shepard pulled a throw off the couch and tossed it over Vega’s head. “There. Now you don’t have to look.” Lana was eating and throwing puzzled looks at the strangers in her house; Liara’s nipple came out of her mouth with a pop and she snatched at the air. Jack went scarlet next to her wife and Miranda elbowed her in the ribs. They had been passing Lana around all afternoon surrounded by flowers and teddy bears and balloons.

“Here, use this;” Vega tossed the blanket over to her and she swore at him loudly. Thea put her hands over Liselle’s ears and gave Jack her best professor look.

“Can I hold her, now?” Liselle wiggled out from her mother’s grip and stood about a foot from Liara, who was cross-legged and once again covered on the couch. Was still nervous around the tiny, blue, crying thing they called her cousin.

“Anyone want a drink?” Shepard rose and counted hands; Liara frowned, sideways at her, while coaxing Liselle into the seat next to her.

“Here, Lissy; make sure you support her head,” Liselle held her like she was made of glass; “relax; look, she likes you.” Lana had her nose pressed into Liselle’s shirt, mouthing around for a meal she wasn’t going to find. Liara laughed, light and airy.

 

***

“Well, that was lovely,” Liara stretched and yawned, clinking glasses as she loaded the dishwasher with the used cutlery and plates. “Joker seemed happy to see me. Although he did ask if I’d 'embraced eternity' lately.”

“Of course he did.” Shepard took her around the waist and kissed her neck.

“It was; go to bed, honey. Let me get this. She’ll have you up again in a few hours.” Liara turned and kissed her, “are you sure?”

“Very. Get some sleep; I’ll put her down when she’s ready. I wouldn’t mind some daddy-daughter time anyway.”

 

She was snuggled on the couch with Lana on her chest, not really watching the Blasto vid on the screen, when the buzzer rang. Her head perked up and she did the awkward parent dance of trying to move without waking the baby; somehow got to her feet and got Lana down the hall to her crib without her stirring.

 

Aria was on the doorstep, casserole dish in hand.

“Shepard.”

“Aria!” hadn’t been expecting her. “Uh, you just missed Thea and Liselle.” Was glad her hands were full; didn’t know if they should hug or- Aria shoved the dish at her, knocking a poof of breath from her.

She looked down at her arms; “You brought me a casserole?” She opened the door wider and let her in; she stalked by, all rasping leather and gunshot powder; the ozone she carried wherever she went.  
She crossed her arms and stood leaning against the wall, “Well I know I ate hospital food for the first few months of Liselle’s life, but at least it was delivered; just returning the favour.”

“Oh, yah, I mean thanks. It’s just so-“ _Thoughtful, sweet; uncharacteristic-_ “domestic.”

“What? I cook. You know that.” _You of all people know that, Jane._

_I very much do…_

“Yah, of course…” Their conversation sputtered out. Their passions seemed out of place in this ordinary hallway, with its ordinary art and its ordinary lighting and its ordinary shoe racks; with spit up on Jane’s collar and their last kiss still burning Aria’s lips.

“So, uh, you wanna meet her? I just put her down.”

 

She had dropped Aria’s gift off in the kitchen while Aria restlessly tapped her heeled foot on the floor and looked around like the very walls would lash out at her. A look John and Omega and the stranger Nyreen had called ‘Illusive’ hadn’t pulled from her.

“Meet Lana T'Soni.” Shepard opened the door to Lana’s room where the holo-machine played soothing ocean sounds and stars twinkled softly on the ceiling; stars signaling their sundown.

“Not Shepard?” Aria paused in the doorway, like the threshold was a wall of flames; as if taking that last step would burn her alive. Make it real; if she stayed out it would all be a dream and- _I’ll wake in Jane’s arms, two undergrads, peddling drugs, and sleeping late, and fucking well past the witching hour._

_Through the looking glass, Alice._

But Jane wouldn’t oblige. Would not sleep in that bed of lies any longer.

The bed of lies that had begun them; the happenstance that had led to this all.

“No. She's a T'Soni. I have a feeling she'll hear the name Shepard enough,” she turned, beaming; the grin of a proud papa, showing off her cub. “She doesn’t bite, jeeze, she doesn’t even have any teeth yet.”

_But maybe you do, Shepard. Maybe this gnashes at me more than anything else I’ve ever faced…_

Aria rolled her eyes – one part camouflage, one part annoyance - and approached the crib, her heart thudding heavy in her ears. It leapt into her throat. The baby’s presence crashed around her, her toes and the tips of her fingers going tingly-numb. She exhaled and long breath, peering down at Liara and Jane’s child.

_There she is. Real. Lovely and part Shepard, and-_

“She's beautiful Jane.” It was true; this teeny person who was the good thing bringing them their end. Whose journey had begun at the end of theirs.  
“Yah, she is,” all punch-drunk love. “She looks like Liara.”  
“I don't know,” Aria looked back at her, wry smile on her face, “I think she looks like her father.” Jane grew ten feet, all peacock ruffles and muscles. She touched her freckled arm, “Congratulations, Shepard.”

They stood in silence – broken only by Lana’s sleepy whimpers and the sound of waves crashing-

_-they crashed together like a wave meeting the shore-_

Aria cleared her throat and licked her lips, “I brought this too.” She held out a book she had tucked inside her jacket; it was another Dickens: intricate, swirling cover over dusty old pages. _So much like our first._

“You didn’t have it.”

Jane turned it over in her hands; didn’t know what to say.

“Aria, you didn’t have to-“

“-I thought maybe I could read it to her…?” _I_ will _love your child, in the face of it all; as if she were my own._

“I would love that.”

_She is yours; she is you._

“Can I-“ Aria motioned to the dreaming Lana,

“Of course; you never have to ask.” _You are my heart._

Wondered what Aria’s dreams had been, before the world got in her way.

“She has your hands. Long fingers;” no innuendo, just a fact. _I know you. I was here, part of you, and I know you so._ Shepard marveled watching Aria’s deep purple against her daughter’s light skin: Liara’s skin. Her two worlds colliding. Remembered when they had; what had come to pass.

_You created who’ve I’ve become. You remind me of who I was._

She cradled Lana in one arm, deftly, and touched Jane’s hand, lightly. Jane was suddenly reminded that she had missed all of this: Aria as a parent to an infant. Aria with a child at her breast; could almost see it. _In a different life, T’Loak._

“Piano hands,” she replied, finally.

Aria walked the room, rocking Lana gently. “Violin. Start her on violin; cello maybe.” _Slender fingers._ Jane raised her brows. _Like hers._

_Aria’s fingers._

It made sense; she was haunting, heart-aching beauty turning to harsh pizzicato in an instant.

“Aria, do you…?”

Remembered another of Ashley’s phrases, from some dead and forgotten poet: "The violin quivers like a tormented heart."

Lively, eloquent soliloquies – sensuous and bright – brilliant and rough and sweet. Sweeping, swelling, ethereal; dark, dim, bass tones.

Aria.   

She looked at her, the dim of the room hiding her eyes. “My father was a classical violinist. Well the closest thing Asari have to it.” She touched Lana’s hands, caressing them softly in her own. The closest she’s ever come to revealing anything about her childhood.

 _I didn’t lack for anything,_ her expression said – could read her so well – _but I didn’t care. Turned out this way anyway. In spite of it. To spite it._

She handed Lana back to her father, who looked at her with new eyes, “play for me sometime?”

“Perhaps. I think that time has passed for us, Jane.”

 _I love you_. _But I’m not what you’re looking for._

They had played their own duet; harmonized, entwined, tangled, and interwoven until they had unravelled.

Until it had come to crescendo; an improvised performance, accelerando and pure, with the compound division that was the three of them: herself, Aria, Liara.

Aria's swelling strings and Jane's tinkling piano: One dark and sonorous, with a tendency toward roughness; the other highly expressive and soulful; intense.  
Together; mournful. Soft, and silky. Intimate, warm, and lyrical. Austere.

Until it had faded away.

 

“You think you know me so well,” she had finished, a wayward smirk on her face. Jane tried to memorize it in this moment; in this moment when they were neither lovers nor friends. They were on the bridge between, clasping hands and trailing fingers as they went in opposite directions. The last moment.

_You do, you know._

Had actually grasped hands somewhere along the way.

“I'll give you once piece of advice Shepard. Stick with her. Beside her. Together. When we... I tried to blame Tevos, her career, and yes, it was that, but...” She shrugged, all white leather and sharp lines. “Don't let the stress tear you apart. Or do. We both know right where you'll end up,” she dropped her hand, but winked at her; went to walk away. To leave her with her daughter. “But she won't take you back again if you do.”

“Thank you Aria.”

“Jane. Don't mistake what I said for regret. You and I; that wasn't about Thea. Or Liselle. That was...”

_Love._

_I love you._

“Aria, are we going to be okay?”

_I always will._

She paused in the doorframe again; “I heard an old asari proverb once; I don't know how true it is... Roughly translated it means: ‘if old lovers can remain friends they're either still in love,’ ” she paused, looking to the crib. “ 'Or never were...' ”

_I could have been your everything, Jane._

“Aria?”

That beautiful, dangerous, terrible asari looked back at her like a faun.

_I would have been your Queen…_

“You were.”

She nodded; didn’t need the meld.

_You were._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Absolutely did NOT write the song; the copyright for this great tune is:  
> Written, arranged, recorded, mixed, and mastered by Ólafur Arnalds, Erased Tapes Records
> 
> Poem;  
> Charles Baudelaire, Evening Harmony


	29. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been forming in my head for years; since this little story began as nothing more than an exercise in my love of all things Mass Effect. A fluffy, five chapter, - at most – explicit romp. A tale about Liara T’Soni and Jane Shepard meeting at school and falling in love…  
> Boy was I wrong.  
> This wasn’t supposed to be a story about heartbreak and loss;  
> About infidelity and how families are made – both biological and the ones you choose to surround yourself with;  
> About all the hidden fears I guess I needed to get out my system.  
> It wasn’t supposed to be a story about Aria.  
> But in reality, that is what it became, and I enjoyed her presence more than I care to say. Liara was my girl, damnit. 
> 
> Turns out, they both were.  
> Turns out, I needed write over 250,000 words about the Queen of Omega and her subjects.
> 
> So, here’s to you, Aria T’Loak, you fierce, damnable creature. I’ll miss you.  
> And to you, Jane – my alter ego, my hero. My Commander.  
> And, to you, Doctor T’Soni; who reminds me so much of my own girl, in so many ways. I’m glad you came out on top.
> 
> Finally, my hat’s off to you, dear readers. I never thought I would get the response I have received. I wrote this for you. If you weren’t here it would have been a real lonely ride; and we had one hell of a ride.  
> The best.
> 
>  
> 
> There is a bonus song at the end of this chapter; a song that has always felt like this chapter to me.  
> It is a treat for my only – half assed – beta reader. My own hummingbird; the Little Wing to my Commander. For some reason I cannot fathom, she thinks she’s supposed to be my muse; despite telling her ‘that’s not how it works.’

The smell of turkey filled the house. Liara could hear the crackling of the fire – a real, honest-to-god, wood-burning blaze that she was petrified Lana would fall into – from the living room, where the tree stood tall and proud. She remembered Lana decorating it; lifted in her father’s arms, reaching as far as her own would allow, placing a shining star on the highest bough…

  
_Gifts, of all sizes and shapes, garishly wrapped and piled in every corner. Almost all of them bearing Lana's name. From Santa; from Gramma and Grandpa; from Mommy and Daddy._

_One special one, labeled:_

From: Daddio

To: Cuttlefish.

 _Her song inside, framed like her mother's. Wouldn't appreciate it now, not really, but would someday._ _  
_ Someday when I'm long gone and she's got her own cuttlefish _, Shepard had thought – not without regret - whilst elbow deep in wrapping and toys -both dolls and toy guns, they had a real complicated little girl- and little pink shirts and biotiball equipment and new strings and rosin and about a hundred books and- the list went on._

_Flashing red and green lights illuminating the front steps and wreaths hung from every lamp along the drive. Garland filled with glittering things hung on every doorframe. Holiday Scotch, expensive and rare, shared late at night in the den; filthy jokes and torrid stories spilling off ‘the boy’s’ lips._

_“You know, Shep, this weird ass human holiday is growing on me.”_

_Lana standing in the middle of the foyer, where the sound was the best, playing her violin as her family clapped and cheered._ _  
Playing along with her Dad at the piano; Christmas carols of course, but also songs from her latest pop culture crush that made Jane grit her teeth. Had learned them anyway._

_For her._

_Flour-covered faces and matching aprons, all thumbs in the kitchen like her mother, making cookies and squares and eating weird chocolate things imported from Earth that Shepard called Turtles for some reason; Daddy’s holiday becoming_ their _holiday._

_And eggnog. Of course._

_Jane chasing her around the tree trying to kiss her with the sticky, sweet smell still on her breath. Collapsing into a fit of giggles when she caught her._

_Benezia softly reading_ ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas _, Lana hanging off her every word,_ _cuddled up in front of that fire in pyjamas with the feet built in, and a cup of hot chocolate in tiny hands. Sat between both her grandparents, with Aethyta’s arm around her slender shoulders; all baby giraffe limbs and height not caught up to her yet._

_“The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;”_

_“Who?”_

_“Santa,” Jane filled in…_

_“Now, DASHER! Now, DANCER! Now, PRANCER and VIXEN! On, COMET! On CUPID! On, Donder and Blitzen! To the top of the portch! To the top of the wall! Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”_

_Lana yelled out the names of the reindeer, Benezia pausing to let her. Kissing her softly on the cheek before resuming. Liara squeezed Shepard’s leg where she sat on the edge of her armchair._

_“What about Rudolph?”_

_“Uh, he’s there too. Santa just forgot to call his name, you know, cause he’s already in the lead…”_

_“Why?”_

I dunno, kid

_“Who the hell is Rudolph?”_

**_“_** The! ** _”…_**

_“He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, and away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, Happy Christmas to all! And to all a good-night!”_

_“Goodnight!” She had yawned and Liara carried her up the stairs on one hip after she had hugged them all and kissed them twice, and hugged them again._

_“Don’t forget to leave my cookies out for Santa, Daddy,” a sleepy voice had mumbled from Liara’s neck._

_“Best thing you ever did, kid. Makes up for the bullshit you put us through.”_

_“Merry Christmas, Aethyta.”_

How the Grinch Stole Christmas _and_ Blasto Saves Christmas _and Christmas-Christmas-Christmas-_

_The Christmases Liara had craved since she had met Jane._

_Winter nights warm, together._

 

***

Liara checked the oven and basted the turkey; stood at the window where spider webs of ice were cracking up the pane.

The Christmas Day sun was leaving long, harsh shafts of light that looked like birch trees. Icicles dangled off the hands of the garden statues; Shepard had placed a red hat on the head of one she thought looked suspiciously like Aethyta. The kind of weather that froze your nose closed and burnt your eyes.

Unless you were a–

-“how old are you now, Lana?”-

-“Four-almost-five!”

-year-old girl.

 

 

A lopsided and ugly snowman without any features, toiled over for hours;

Jane’s nose reddening, Lana’s cheeks flushed a deep purple; both freckled and covered in snow. Shepard gathered a drift in both hands and threw her arms up to the sky; it cascaded over her daughter’s head, where it ran down the back of her crest. Liara could almost hear the hearty gales of belly laughter.

So much like her father. So human.

_“You will teach her to laugh quickly, love quickly; see the beauty in everything around you.”_

Watched as Lana did the same: Shepard ducking and letting herself be doused in the frozen enchantment that snow was to a child. Watched Shepard falling into the powder with a small version of herself piling on top.

 

So different from the Christmas spent without those little feet padding up and down the hallways. The same hallways Liara had taken her first steps in. The same hallways she had haunted like a specter, grey and tormented, during those lonely Christmases after Vasir had almost killed her but before Azuke had brought them back together. The Christmases when neither her nor Aria held her in their arms, neither of them knew where she was. The Christmases she had spent here, alone…

 

… _her parents pointedly avoiding the word; staring out into the falling snow, and frozen lake, daydreaming; watching the flakes but thinking of her._

_Where she was, what she was doing out there with the Alliance; was there someone else with her under that strange plant - mistletoe?_

_Wanting to hold her in her arms on those cold nights; so strange that she wasn’t there amidst the howling wind and pine tree tops painted white with winter’s brush._

There are reminders of you everywhere I go…

_The time of year when Shepard was so near._

_So far away._

_Imagined her at the bow so some great starship; maybe thinking of her as well at this time of year..._

_Imagined her at the piano that had lain dormant since her hands had danced over the keys – so silent; like her nights. Too hard for her to remember._

_Couldn’t forget._

_Could hear her music in her head; in her soul._

_Imagined her laughing and smiling, here, with them, love and happiness surrounding her. Her love. Her family._

_Imagined her back home, with another woman pressed close; exchanging gifts and sighing “Merry Christmas.” Loving her._

_She turned her amber necklace around in her fingers, absently. Fingered her bare ring finger, so bleak and barren._

_Tried to recall how her body had felt beside her._

Oh, how I miss you, my love…

_Had almost tried her old contact._

_A thousand times._

_“I’m just calling to say Merry Christmas, Jane...”_

 

Jane caught her peering – spying – and she smiled at her; winked. Liara let the melancholic memories disappear; swirl and twirl into the wind, like the gusts of wind blowing the snow around her wife and daughter. Shepard tapped Lana’s shoulder and pointed to where she stood; could see her saying ‘Say hi to Mommy.’ Watched twin pairs of mittens wave; twin pairs of emerald eyes gazing up at her in the window.

 

This is how she had seen her; imagined her in the snow on Christmas morning: joyful. With her. With their children.

 

She waved back and wrapped her arms around herself; around their baby, brand new and barely formed; unbeknownst to her father as of yet. Their upcoming second-in-command; a deputy to Lana’s sheriff. Liara’s little secret.

 

Shepard came in with the chief herself bundled in powerful arms, blue snowsuit to match blue skin covered in winter’s coldest hand-me-down. “Hi Mom;” dripped puddles all over Benezia’s back hall as she shed soaked, ice-covered clothing with every step. “Gramma Nezzy, Grandpa! Come see my snowman!”

Shepard blew out a weary breath, shaking out the long red hair that fell in her face, “she did what the Alliance could not do: she wore me out.” She grinned, watching her daughter’s tiny form - Liara in miniature - the small child she had dreamt of in a long forgotten meadow so many years ago - disappear.

Liara gathered the fallen soldiers and hung them up to dry; handed Jane a mug of coffee, the steam melting the snow in her hair. “Aria and Thea will be here by New Year’s Eve, perhaps Liselle will tire her out for a change.” She took another look at the snow-Asari decorating the lawn and hid a smile behind her hand. Hadn’t changed much from the young maiden Jane had caught in the rain.

“I tried to give it a proper crest and some boobs, but it’s not packing snow,” Shepard shrugged. Liara laughed and swatted at her; took her hand and pointed up to where she had hung mistletoe over the sink.

They kissed, soft and slow, and familiar. Her lips were cold but her breath was warm; tasted like coffee. Tasted like home. Like her past and her future and everything in between.

A gentle, winsome smile spread over Jane’s features, as slow as the arrival of spring; it was a ridiculous grin, but infectious. She watched it multiply in those green eyes she had fallen in love with.

The eyes she had indeed passed onto their eldest.

“I have something to tell you.”

Stood on tiptoes – brushing autumn hair away and tucking it behind freezing ears - cobalt lips pressed close; whispering words that left her speechless and stammering and staggered.

_I love you. I made you, and I loved you, both of you._

_All three of you: my daughters and my love._

“No?” Hushed; astounded. She placed her hands on Liara’s stomach.

_A thousand years._

“Yes.”

Would keep this moment in her heart forever.

_Till the day I die._

“Merry Christmas, Shepard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. Keep your eyes peeled for an epilogue – a small Part 4 – and maybe some one-shots as they crop up. There’s a whole universe out there to explore.
> 
> Absolutely did NOT write the song; the copyright for this great tune is:  
> Writer(s): Pierre Marchand, Sarah McLachlan  
> Poem;  
> Clement Clarke Moore

**Author's Note:**

> Work contains dialogue recognizable and lifted from all three Mass Effect games, and therefore those words belong to Bioware and are simply being borrowed by me to create this AU.


End file.
